Family, By Any Uddah Name
by Sage1899
Summary: Chloe McGee flees to NYC where she is taken in by Jack. Only he doesn't know she is a girl at first. What happens when he finds out?What if the wrong ppl discover her secrets?
1. Discovery

Family by any uddah name  
By Sage  
  
*Disclaimer: The Newsies and all characters from the movie are the property of Disney. This is a fan fiction written purely for entertainment. I do own all original characters as follows: (Sage, The Morgans)*  
  
**Special thanks to all my goils that are offering use of characters and ideas for use in this fan fic, and for all of your support. Shiny happy thoughts to youz all CTB4evah! Please keep in mind this is a rough draft.**  
  
Chapter 1 Discovery  
  
It was still early, Kloppman wouldn't be waking the boys for another hour or so, but Jack Kelly rose, and dressed just before dawn. The Manhattan Newsies Lodging House was too crowded, many of the boys that lived there, if you could call it that, were having to share bunks, two to a bed. For the shorter guys that was ok, but he was over six feet tall now and it was just too claustrophobic. Besides, spring fever had hit him hard, he longed to be in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Tall buildings replaced by sky, fresh air and the smell of horses and saddle leather filling the clean desert air rather than the stifling smells of the city. He had to get some air, stretch his legs and think, without the constant companionship he faced with the other Newsies. Not that he didn't like the fellas, he did Hell, they were his family But, someone was always coming to him for advice, or whingein' about one thing or another. Jack took care of the boys in his borough of the city, and that wasn't an easy job, but, this morning he needed some space, so he headed for Central Park.  
  
Though it was still early, street vendors were setting up their carts with fresh produce. Morgan's Bakery was bustling with life and the smells of fresh bread and coffee urged Jack to go inside. He didn't normally eat anywhere but Tabby's, a favored restaurant with the Newsies because of the cheep hearty food, but his stomach grumbled in protest when he toyed with the idea of passing the bakery by. He decided on two large scones and a quick cup of coffee.  
  
" How's business Frank?" Jack asked as his scones were being wrapped in thick paper to keep them fresh for his journey. The baker knew what was coming as soon as he caught the glint in Jack's eyes, so he just smiled, shrugged and brushed some flour from his white apron. Morgan was the only skinny baker Jack had ever known and he loved to tease the young man that was just a few years his senior. "I'm tellin ya Frankie, no one trusts a skinny baker." Jack raised an eyebrow and took a gulp of the rich black coffee. "Makes folks wonder if you know what yer doin'." He winked at him and drank the rest of the coffee as fast as he could get the steaming liquid down, without burning his tongue out of his head.  
  
"Cowboy!" Excited screams came from three small boys, all under 5, as they scampered in through the side door of the bakery, the youngest one clutching his mother's skirts and sucking his thumb. "Hello, Jack," Emma Morgan, Frank's wife, smiled at the scene.  
  
Jack smiled, first to Emma, then the boys. "Hey-ya fellas!" He dropped to his haunches, balancing on the low heels of his worn boots, so he was able to look the oldest eye to eye. "Youse behavin' fer yer mom 'n pop Jamie?"  
  
The blonde headed child nodded, his bright blue eyes beaming. "Will ya show us how to make yer rope dance? Puh-leez." His plea was joined by the other two boys. Jack snickered, kids had such funny ways of putting things.  
  
"Aw, I ain't got it with me just now." Jack saw the lad's face drop in disappointment. "But, I will soon, Kiddo." He ruffled each boy's hair in turn, and looked up to meet the tired gaze of their very pregnant mother, "If," he added, as she smiled warmly and shifted her stance a bit, rubbing the small of her back with her fingers, "youz behave fer yer muddah." The boys, eager to see Jack twirl his lasso again, quickly agreed.  
  
Jack took the offered bundle of scones from Emma, said his 'goodbyes' and was on his way.  
  
Soft rain skittered through the maple leaf canopy, the cool drops kissed Jacks cheeks. He stopped walking, took a deep breath filling his lungs with the crisp air, and stretched his arms over his head, his finger tips ticking the wet leaves, sending a shower of rain down on his head. Smiling to himself, Jack shook his head, spraying water in every direction from his soaked hair.  
  
Jack was so busy taking in the sights and smells of spring, he nearly missed seeing the boy that lay curled up on a wooden bench near a hedge of roses. Central Park was pretty and all, but it wasn't any place for a kid to sleep. It just wasn't safe. Even Jack didn't sleep in the park alone, and he was a street-rat! And not just any street-rat either. He was in charge of the fifty or so newsies that called Manhattan home.  
  
The kid wore charcoal grey wool trousers, a faded shirt that had once been hunter green, and a dark colored vest. The clothing all looked three sizes too big for him. A dark newsies cap clung to his head, a few stray auburn curls poked out from beneath the cap. It had been a cold night, well not freezing, but cold enough.. The wool jacket the kid wore was tattered and didn't look very warm. Jack hoped the kid was wearing warm underclothes.'This just ain't right.' Jack couldn't let the kid freeze or get mugged in the park. He had soft features and long dark lashes. 'He ain't gotta chance alone', Jack frowned. His protective instincts took over. He had an idea.  
  
"Hey kid," Jack shook the boy's shoulder. "Kid, c'mon, wake up."  
  
The boy woke with a start, sitting upright so fast he smacked Jacks chin with the back of his head, eyes wide, scared, as he sprang backwards from Jack's touch.  
  
Jack's teeth rattled and he pulled back, partly to calm the boy, and partly to allow his own head to stop spinning. "Easy kid! You awright?" The boy held his own head, the sleeves so long on his shirt they covered his hands. Jack knew the look of fear when it clouded someone's eyes and this kid was terrified. "It's okay, I ain't gonna hurt ya." He soothed, just like he would a spooked horse.  
  
*****  
  
Chloe held her head tightly. What just happened? She would have been panicked, as the memories of the last few days snaked into her head; had her head not hurt so much. Her vision was splotchy, and her ears were ringing, but she slowly became aware of the man sitting on his heels in front of her. He was talking to her, but with the ringing in her ears all she could do was stare blankly and blink at him. Partly willing her hearing to clear, and partly willing he would disappear.  
  
The man was tall and lean, but not skinny. He dressed in the dark muted tones popular in 1900, but he had a red bandana tied at his neck. As her vision cleared she could see that he wasn't a man, not really, rather, a young man still in transition from boy to manhood.  
  
The ringing faded and she could hear him..."...I ain't gonna hurt ya." His voice was calm and strong.  
  
He had a beautiful smile, full and genuine, showing dimples in his cheeks that framed the corners of his mouth perfectly. He had kind, dark brown eyes, the kind you could lose yourself in for eternity. He propped his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together, one hand in a fist the other covering it, shielding his mouth and nose from her view.  
  
She smiled at him. He raised his eyebrows and a lock of dark brown hair fell onto his forehead, partly hiding his right eye. He shoved a hand through his hair, forcing it out of his way, rolling his eyes as he did so. He looked very young at that moment. She let out a giggle, then immediately remembered that she was dressed as a boy for a reason! She clapped her hand over her mouth and bit her lip.  
  
He smiled lopsidedly at the feminine sound. "I'm Jack," his hands, clutched back together, dropped to their place in his lap. "Jack Kelly. At least that's what me muddah called me. Whadda they call you kid?"  
  
Chloe looked down at the worn toes of her boots. "Chris," she croaked. "Chris McGee" Well, that was her name; sort of. Her full name was Chloe Christine McGee, but as Chloe wasn't likely for a boy, she went with 'Chris'.  
  
Irish, a Chicago newsie that befriended her when she ran away from her uncle's home, said, "if you have ta lie, keep it as close ta the truth, as you can. That way, ya ain't likely to forget the story when it really counts."  
  
"Well, Chris," Jack continued from the same crouched position, "Ya hungry?" He ducked his head, turning it to the side in an effort to look up under the floppy brim of the newsie cap, Jack's forehead was scrunched from his expression. Once he made eye contact, Jack rolled his eyes and made a face at the kid. She smiled and looked up, stifling a giggle just in time to be handed one of the scones Jack had purchased on his way to the park. He sat on the end of the bench, minding the space between them so as not to crowd the kid.  
  
It smells like Heaven! She took a bite of the still warm scone. This is exactly like Mama used to make. Chloe wondered if all of the food in New York was that good.  
  
Jack watched the kid relax as he ate. Good kid, he thought, can't have ya scared of me when I can help ya. He'd seen it before. Too many times. Orphans and runaway kids, trying to make a better life for themselves, trying to save their own lives by leaving bad situations, only to fall, head first into a much more dangerous situation. Wandering the streets of New York, alone. It wasn't as bad in Manhattan as it was in Brooklyn. But without someone to watch your back, you're as good as dead.  
  
They ate in silence a moment before Jack remembered the small silver flask in his vest pocket. Aiden "Spot" Conlon, head of the Brooklyn Newsies, had given the flask to him as a gift a few weeks earlier. Jack didn't drink booze as a rule. His father, Alan Sullivan, was in prison for a variety of cons, assaults and other crimes, most of which were devised or attempted while he was drunk. Kelly wanted nothing to do with Sullivan and was determined to be nothing like him. He even adopted the name Jack Kelly, the name of his mother's father, so he no longer had to share a name with him.  
  
"Ya thoisty, kid?" Cowboy asked as he unscrewed the lid of the flask. His offer was greeted with wide eyed silence. The kid thinks it's booze! He chuckled to himself. "It's just wattah," he said with a lopsided grin. He offered the flask again and Chris took it.  
  
Sweet cool water flowed from the small container. Chris gulped the water and then examined the flask. It had an intricate Celtic cross etched into the front of it. Chris ran her fingers over the cross, it was a symbol she was familiar with, and this one was detailed with intricate knot work. She could feel engraving on the back. Turning it over she read three letters written in flowing script:  
  
C T B  
  
*********  
  
End of Chapter 1  
  
YAY!!!!! I got one done and posted! You have no idea how hard that was for me. Whew! -Sage-  
  
"Foah a dreamah night's the only time of day!" - Jack Kelly-  
  
PAIRINGS: in no particular order. The rest are being worked out: Jack - Sage Spot - Angelstar Mush - Hope & ershey (this will be interesting) Kid Blink - Gin Specs - Stretch  
  
SOs: I am trying to remember everyone and luv ya all!  
  
Angelstar - My co-authorette! Thank you for showing me the ropes and all the great ideas and rp that have inspired so much of this story! This is gonna be so much fun!  
  
Gin- You are a great leader! Thanks for your support and patience with me.  
  
Stretchypooh - ME TWINNY! What can I say to me youngah wizah sistah? Hee hee! You are an inspiration!  
  
Ershey- my early mornin chat buddy! Remember...HAPPY endings for Mushy! He dezoivs it!  
  
BonBon- you tallented crossovah artist you! Jack n Mal in the same story would make this ickle Sagey verry happy.. *grinz*  
  
Hope- I am so looking forward to your story. My foist stahin role! YAY!  
  
Liz - my research goddess! Thx!  
  
Scorch Kae Bookie Fire Lady Jockey Harley Dainti Raven Mayo Scorch Lavender Tree Sparrow Bec Zippy Canarie Slingshot  
  
The list goes on and on and I know I have forgotten people. I'm SO SORRY...you have permission to hurt me even...just not the hands or I can't write any more.  
  
For those that contributed character profs...I have tons of ideas! Thank you! Some of the newsies will be from Chicago. If you don't make it into this story, I PROMISE to have you in the next one. I'm just not 100% sure where it is going yet.  
  
Anywayz, thatss it foah me... Thanks for readin!  
  
PLEEEEEZ give me reviews! I am dying to know what you guys think! And want to make this a really fun story to read. 


	2. Caryin The Banner

Family by any uddah name  
By Sage  
  
RATED PG-PG13 later on. I will rate each chapter from here on out.  
  
*Disclaimer: The Newsies and all characters from the movie are the property of Disney. I also do not own the article that Denton wrote for the Newsies Banner. This is a fan fiction written purely for entertainment. I do own all original characters as follows: (Sage & Irish)*  
  
**Special thanks to all my goils that are offering use of characters and ideas for use in this fan fic, and for all of your support. Shiny happy thoughts to youse all! I posted the CC results and am just waiting to hear back from a few of you. CTB4evah! **  
  
CHAPTER 2  
Carryin' the banner  
  
Brown eyes smiled at his question. Jack blushed, his cheeks flushing crimson, remembering the role he had held in the Newsies strike the summer before.  
  
It had been a whirlwind of action. Rallies, riots and trademark sprints through the streets of New York, with bulls, rival gangs and even Oscar and Morris; the Delancey brothers, hot on his heels. All the Newsies in New York, all five boroughs, had banded together to fight for their right to survive in a brutal world that had failed to give them any breaks in their short lives. But with the strike things had changed, for the Newsies. Jack still couldn't believe, that he; a lowly street-rat, a 17 year old boy with no formal education and a police record the length of his arm, had been part of the events that had led to rights for working children all over the country. Not just a part of the movement, he had been one of it's most powerful leaders.  
  
"Ah, dat means "Carryin' da bannah." He gave the lad a friendly smile. "Spot Conlon, leadah of da Brooklyn Newsies, gave it ta me."  
  
"Newsies...Jack Kelly..." Chris bit his lip, his face scrunched in contemplation. After a moment, the boy's eyes widened, revealing bright blue-green eyes beneath thick black lashes, and recognition spread over his face. "You are the one they call Cowboy?" he exclaimed, his accent broad and full of a native Scottish lilt. "Me mate Irish, is a Newsie in Chicago," Chris continued excitedly. "He's told me stories 'bout you."  
  
Jack laughed. Not a full out laugh, but an embarrassed, slightly self conscious laugh. His already flushed cheeks brightened again, and this time the color snuck down his neck, and up to his hairline. He dropped his head, as if the fame made him shy, ran his hand through his thick hair and looked back up at the tall lean boy in the tattered jacket. "Oh yeah?" Jack smiled.  
  
"Och, aye!" Chris smiled broadly.  
  
"An' juss whot did this 'Irish' tell ya 'bout me?" Cowboy wasn't comfortable being a hero, all he did was fight for his own survival, and that of his boys. But he did like to hear a good story, even if he was the star of it.  
  
Chris began relating Irish's favorite tale. About how 'the Cowboy" had single handedly taken on a gang of Pulitzer's goons, beating them to a pulp, and shoving their leader into a water fountain in Central Park. Jack laughed at the story. Amused that in reality it had been Spot and a few of his Brooklyn boys that had soaked ten Cribs. Besting the older men, and shoving half of them off the Brooklyn docks and into the East River. Spot would love that the story had grown and made it all the way to Chicago, but not that HE wasn't the one mentioned. Jack giggled at the thought of how angry Spot would be and how loudly he would yell, at no one in particular, about the injustice of it all.  
  
"Yer famous Jack," the kid grinned. He shoved his fist deep into the pocket in the tattered jacket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of newspaper from the depths. It was old and worn, yellowed with age. Chris handed the folded bundle to Jack. "See?"  
  
Jack chuckled. As he opened the paper, he could see a familiar image unfold. The header for the pape read "Chicago Tribune", but the headline and the photo below it were familiar in deed. "Newsies stop the World!"  
  
"It's Denton's article." Jack looked at Chris confused. He read on. It wasn't the original article that ran with that headline, it was the article that nearly didn't get published at all. The article they had printed in The Newsies Banner and distributed to all of the child labor in the city of New York. Last night I saw naked force exercised against mere boys, the Newsies, who earn at best a few pennies a day. I wondered why so much for so little....  
  
He hadn't seen Denton in a long time, and reading Denton's words and seeing the photo with all his friends, in a Chicago newspaper, of all places, made him wonder where his friend would be stationed next. Jack received post cards from Denton every few months, from exotic and dangerous places around the world, but he'd not received anything in over a month and was getting anxious.  
  
"Awryt Chris, since ya knows so much about me an da rest of da fellas. An' youse don't seem ta have a place ta stay or nuttin. Why don't youse come wit me. I'll teach ya how ta sell papes. Whadda ya say?"  
  
Chris nodded. I have to tell Irish about this, he'll never believe it.  
  
Cowboy had let the time get away from him, mesmorized by the energetic way the kid told the story. He hadn't realized how late it was until he heard the church-bells ring. The nuns, from the Sister's of Mercy, would be in their wagons, passing bread and coffee to the less fortunate children of the city, as they had done every morning for years. That meant he had fifteen minutes before the distribution centers for The World would open, and he could get his daily stack of one hundred papes.  
  
"Ya heah dat?" Jack rose and brushed the crumbs off his charcoal trousers. "We haftah get goin if we're gonna get our papes an' a decent place to sell 'em."  
  
Chris rose too, and followed Cowboy down the path that led out of the park.  
  
END CHAPTER 2! **********************************  
  
YAY me!!!  
  
Ok, I am shattered after staying up all night writing so the SOs Are gonna be short.  
  
Rye- Sorry you didn't get the edited chap 1! You were me foist official review on ff.net YAY! It should be up and runnin now. You are so cute! I have to write a character for you! Chat soon *nods* mwah xx  
  
To my goils and the cast of this little tale, LUV YAZ! Mwah!  
  
Journey- Grinz! Don't get in trouble readin this at woik! I hope I can keep them all true to themselves. *nod nod*  
  
Raven - ya drink wayyy too much coffee! Either that or ya really need to share what you are on for all that energy! Thanks for being my cheer leader though!  
  
BONBON! Oooh you are so SHINEY! I am so excited to see Mal and Jack together! *grinz* good idea *nod nod* (No lute not in a slashy way...lol although.....) I can't wait to see what you have planned!  
  
Angelstar - You are a RP goddess! Your ideas help me so much! Aiden is the poifect name! *nods* Hope - Do you need the whole foist chapter? It is on the NML. The version on FF.net is kinda cranky. Not sure if it is updated like I told it to or not. Hunny, how many of those wee friends have you got inside your head? (Hee hee) Let them out they need air! *grinz* If it ain't got SOs it ain't complete. Email me and I will get ya the right voision.  
  
ershey - Thank you for being up late and helpin me get this chap ready! You rock!! And thanks for lettin Mushy have some happiness ;-) huggles mushy n ershey.  
  
Gin - YAY Now I can go read the new chaps of your story! Jacks a busy boi! Thanks for all your help!  
  
Ladykins - my foist Chicago goil! YAY You need to get writin so I can read the new story!!!  
  
Stretchykins! Me twinny! You are so talented! Get more written sooooon! Luv ya sistah! Get your stuff posted so I can read more! And do more with the Jack story...you know the one :-)  
  
Slingshot - your wish is my comand! Hee hee. No boyfriend for slingy. Awww  
  
Sparrow - if youse keep giving me great reviews and want to read it I will keep writin. *nod* hee hee  
  
Zippy - my foist NML member to leave official review on ff.net *grinz* Thanks hun! Bec Bookie Canarie Kae Jockey Mayo Dainti Harley Scorch Lavender  
  
WOW! Ok so that wasn't really short.  
  
I hope you guys continue to like the story! Please let me know if you have questions or suggestions. I am always willing to listen. Keep giving me reviews so it can let me know what works.  
  
Thass it foah me! -Sagey- 


	3. Soakin da Delancey Bruddahs

Chapter 3  
  
Cowboy's long legs covered a lot of ground with each step. Most of the other boys have to do a sort of double step to keep up with him, even if he wasn't in a hurry, or he would have to make a conscious effort to stay with the group. But Chris was tall, just a few inches shorter than Jack, and though he had to hurry, he easily kept to the pace that Jack had set.  
  
As the boys walked, the city came to life around them. Shopkeepers and street vendors peddled everything from walking sticks to fresh fruits and vegetables that had been grown just outside of the city. Business men stopped to have the dust of the streets buffed from their expensive leather shoes. Jack seemed to know or be known by everyone. Though he was in a hurry, he acknowledged every hello and wave.  
  
Even from blocks away, Jack could make out the forms of the fellas gathering at the Distribution Center gates of The World. Snitch, Skittery, Kid Blink and Mush, were front and center, saving a place for Jack and the other boys. The absent boys were most likely making their way after stopping at the Sisters of Mercy bread wagon, as was their daily ritual.  
  
Jack was pointing out some of the Newsies hangouts: Tibby's Restaraunt, Irving Hall, etc. As they entered the far end of what was known as Newsies Square, Chris stopped abruptly grabbing Jacks arm.  
  
"Did ya hear that?" the boy asked, turning to his left, scanning the nearby buildings for the source of the sound that had made him stop. Chris pointed to an alleyway that ran next to one of the shops.  
  
Sounds of a struggle reached the boys. A sharp painful cry split the cool, early morning air.  
  
"Crutchy!" Specs voice gave a name to the cries.  
  
"Ah, Hell!" Jack muttered and took off running in the direction of the alley. "Stay here!"  
  
Jack's order went unheaded. Chris followed just one step behind. Not about to be left standing alone in the middle of the street looking around like a fool.  
  
The narrow alley opened up to a larger courtyard of sorts. A beady eyed boy, Oscar Delancey, with an ugly crooked nose, from being broken more than once, had his arm around Spec's neck, choking him. Specs was struggling, for air, his face turning from dark crimson to purple, fingers digging into Oscar's arm, legs kicking wildly.  
  
Behind the struggling boys stood another thug, Morris Delancey, a thick necked goon, over the broken and battered body of an unconscious Crutchy. He was kicking Crutchy hard in the ribs, taking pleasure in causing as much damage as he could.  
  
Jack glanced at Chris.  
  
The boy nodded and picked up the discarded wooden crutch that lay near his feet. "I got it!" He yelled and motioned for Jack to help the fallen lad on the other side of the alley.  
  
Jack lunged at Morris, taking him to the ground in a flurry of entangled limbs and dust.  
  
Chris shifted his weight and swung the crutch like a club, hitting Oscar across his back. This did little but enrage the thug. He pulled back and swung again, this time connecting so hard with Oscar's shoulder, the death grip was loosened on Specs throat. Specs dropped to all fours gasping for air. Oscar kicked Specs in the face, smashing his glasses and knocking them to the ground. Chris brought the crutch down again, but Oscar, his anger seething from his rat eyes, caught the crutch and yanked on it, pulling Chris close enough to him that the foul smell of unwashed male stung his eyes, then slammed his fist into Chris's left eye.  
  
Jack was wailing on Morris. They were close to the same height but Morris outweighed Jack by at least twenty pounds, so when Morris managed to get a dirty fist to connect with Jacks ribs, with a loud CHRUNCH it definately had an effect on him, though Jack would never allow Delancey the pleasure of this knowledge.  
  
Crutchy whimpered softly, but didn't move.  
  
Specs, bleeding from a jagged three inch gash that ran through his eyebrow to his temple, pulled himself. "Jack?" He sputtered, then spat a mouthful of blood into the dirt. He couldn't see, not only from the blood flooding the side of his face, but because of needing his glasses too. Thick fuzzy images replaced the formerly clear ones.  
  
"Specs! Ya awright?" Jack shouted, just before a meaty fist connected with his jaw.  
  
"Yeah." Specs didn't feel all right. He wanted to lay down and close his eyes.  
  
" Get help!" Jack yelled, punching Morris with an uppercut as he exhaled the words.  
  
Specs nodded, then, with the wave of dizzy nausea that rewarded him for his trouble, he wished he hadn't, and stumbled down the alley toward the street. Please, God, let Crutchy be okay.  
  
Racetrack Higgins was making his way through the square, 50 papes in hand, when Specs stumbled onto the sidewalk twenty yards ahead of him. Specs! Race dropped his papes, made the sign of the cross and ran toward his injured friend. For what Racetrack lacked in stature, he made up for in heart. He reached the mouth of the alley just as Specs dropped to his knees. "Stretch!" he shouted at one of the three Newsies behind him. "Yer gonna wanna git ovah heah!" Specs was in bad shape, but managed to motion to the alley where the other four boys still faught. "Now!"  
  
Race glanced up to see the tall thin girl, dressed in black trousers and a tattered blue shirt, shove her bundle of papes at Mayo and Ershey. Her blonde pony-tail swishing from side to side as she ran to them. He propped Specs up against a brick wall and as soon as Stretch was at Spec's side, Race sprinted down the alley to join in the action.  
  
Oscar's fist plunged deep into Chris's belly causing him to double over.  
  
"Now, now fellas," Race crowed. "How many times da I gotta tell youse not ta fight wiv out me?"  
  
"Check on Crutchy, Race." Jack growled as he wrestled with Morris.  
  
Oscar, distracted by Racetrack's sudden appearance, turned his eyes away from Chris. Chris, taking full advantage of this mistake, brought his knee up, sharp and quick, into Oscar's groin. The older boy sank to the ground. Chris grabbed onto Oscar's shoulders and brought the knee up a second time catching him at the bridge of his nose,blood splattered across both boys. He shoved him, sending him sprawling onto his back, grabbed the crutch and pinned Oscar to the ground with it at his neck and sat heavily on Delancey's chest.  
  
"Ye fancy yersel' a big man d'ya?" Chris hissed through his teeth, spraying blood into the beaten boy's face. His deep green eyes flashed dangerously and narrowed. "Beatin on crippled bairns an' the like." The broad Scottish burr made the words sound even more sinister. "Weel, 'ow d'ya feel noo? Nancy-boy! Fancy another go?" He taunted.  
  
"BULLS!" came a shout from Ershey.  
  
Jack, about to clock Morris upside the head again, let go of his shirt collar, dropping him to the ground. Racetrack, had wanted to get in on the action, but had been more entertained watching the new kid soak Oscar. He had toyed with the idea of pulling the new kid off of him, but decided against it. Happy to watch Oscar Delancey get what he had deserved for so long. "Youse two, beat it!" He said excitedly, "I'll take care a' Crutchy...an' these two."  
  
Jack, stumbled just a bit before finding his feet and grabbing Chris by the waist. "C'mon kid, we gotta skin out!"  
  
Chris reluctantly dropped the crutch and allowed Jack to pull him to his feet. They ran then, Jack half pulling Chris, down an adjoining alley that ran behind a row of shops.  
  
*************************** End Chapter 3 ************************** Author's note: WOW! I know that was a long one. But the last 2 were short so.... Disclaimer blah blah..... I do not own Young Guns. (Darn!) But I have always loved the line. "We gotta skin out!" and have wanted to let Jack say that! If you are confuggled...it means they need to get outta there REALLY FAST! If you haven't seen Young Guns....RENT IT! Keiffer Sutherland and the others are so cute in it! I don't own the Newsies or the characters (though I think Jack and Mush would make great house bois) I do own Chris/Chloe. The following characters (making their debut) are owned by their creators. THANKS FOR LETTIN ME HAVE THEM COME PLAY WITH ME! Hee hee: (Combining list with SOs) Stretch- Twinny! I hope you have a blast at the beach! I told you I would intoduce you before you left and there you are! *Nod nod* Get back safe so ya can tend to yer man!  
  
Ershey- Thanks for bein my reader and lettin me bounce Ideas off yer noggin! Mayo- You need to tend to your man too....poor Crutchy! No more SOs tonight. Too tired. Please read and review! I need all the feedback I can get! Thanks!  
  
-Sage- 


	4. what's in a name?

Chapter 4  
  
A/N: With Chloe being from Scotland, her accent is thick and some words may not fully make sense to you. If you have questions about what she says and what it means, please let me know. I would be happy to translate for you.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own Newsies, wish I did. I do own Chloe. All original characters are owned by their respective owners. Angelstar is owned by her creator. Thanks for allowing her to appear in this ff.  
  
********  
  
After running, for what seemed like hours, Jack finally slowed down. He was clutching at his side, grimacing in pain. Chloe had heard his ribs crack when they were fighting. They were standing at the edge of Central Park.  
  
"Are ye alright Jack?" she asked puffing, bent over at the waist, hands on her thighs. She had the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. She ran her tongue along the inside of her split bottom lip. There was a large patch of raw flesh that had caught on her tooth when she'd been slammed in the mouth. She touched it gingerly from the outside with her fingers. It was swollen and bloody. How attractive She thought rolling her eyes to herself. Skin on her cheek was taught from swelling, her fingers trailing up to feel the hot growing bruise under her left eye. She'd been in New York less than a day and she had made friends with a very cute boy, been in a fight and had a black eye and a fat lip. At this rate I'll be dead or married by sunset. She choked back a giggle.  
  
"Yeah, I'll live." Jack huffed. "Nice shine-ah". He observed, and sounded almost jealous but cracked a half smile. "Wese should clean ya up." He untied the red bandana from his neck, flipped it so it unfurled into a large square. He found the cleanest spot and refolded the bandana to reveal a soft square. Jack gingerly touched the cut on her lip, dabbing at the bloody mess, cleaning it up best he could.  
  
Chloe smiled back, well, at least she tried to but it came off as a sneer with her quickly swelling face. Jack laughed. Immediately regretting it, when he started coughing fiercely, gasping in waves of air burning his lungs. "Ya need ta sit down, Jack."  
  
"Nah.... I'se.... fine...." He coughed and sputtered. "Ah wasnae askin." Chloe stated, looking around for a private place top take a look at his side. "C'mon." she flung an arm around his waist to help support him, and led him to a small outcropping of trees.  
  
Her Father had been a surgeon, one of the best in Edinburgh, before they crossed the pond to live in Chicago, where he'd started a lucrative private practice. He'd taken her to work in his clinic, and taught her many things. While her father taught her the more scientific aspects of medicine, her mother, a mid-wife, taught her about the natural healing abilities in plants. Her dreams of being a doctor were shattered when her father was murdered, and her mother died in childbirth three months later.  
  
They sat on a wooden bench, not far from where he had first found her that morning. "Right, lemme see yer side." she ordered. Jack, still having no clue she was a girl, shrugged off his vest and suspenders, and untucked the grey linen shirt from his trousers. Jack hiked the shirttail and undershirt up so Chloe could inspect his side. She was greeted with an angry red area that was swollen and quickly turning a rainbow of colors. She pressed and poked, gently, to see how many ribs were broken. He was well built, lean and quite toned. Her fingers tingled with foreign sensations as she touched him. "You've at least three broken ribs Jack." Her accent still thick, and sounding funny from the interference of the fat lip.. "Ye'll be needin yer bed for a few days."  
  
"Well, well. What da we have here?" boomed a voice from behind her. "Youse goin an gettin yerself in trouble already Cowboy?" Chloe turned slightly to see a boy with sandy blonde hair and the biggest blue eyes she'd ever seen. He had a mennacing scowell on his face and held a black walking stick, loosely in his right hand, as if it were a sword. "Usually, youse waits till noon to get da snot beat outta ya."  
  
Chloe jumped to her feet facing him. She didn't want to fight anymore, but Jack was in no shape to, and whoever this kid was he looked mean as hell. She was ready if she had to protect them, scared to death, but ready.  
  
Spot eyed her, sizing up the boy he thought she was. "Who's dis Jackyboy? Did youse hire a bodyguard?" he snickered.  
  
"Shuddup Spot." Jack grumbled.  
  
Spot cracked a smile that light up his face, showing dimples in his cheeks. And making his clear blue eyes dance. "Aw, don't be like dat Cowboy. I'se gotta present foah ya."  
  
Spot stepped to the side, a dark haired girl, stood behind him gently rolling a baby carriage back and forth. She wasn't very old, close to Chloe's age, she guessed, but shorter, maybe 5'5". "Angelstar!" Jack whooped from behind her, jumped to his feet and rushed to Angelstar, grabbing her around the waist and swinging her around in a hug.  
  
"Jack dinnae do....that!" Chloe's protests were lost on the light breeze. She could see the huge grin on his face as the girl with caramel colored eyes, pounded playfully on his shoulders for him to let her down, laughing and squealing with delight. Jack must have taken a deep breath or hit his ribs, because he turned sickly white and nearly dropped her as he put her down and dropped to one knee.  
  
Angelstar stopped laughing when she realized he was gasping. She looked to Spot, what's he done? Spot shrugged.  
  
Chloe rushed to his side, kneeling next to him. "I tell ya tae tak' ta yer bed, an' instead ya try ta kill yersel'!" She chastized. "Blockhead!"  
  
Jack just nodded breathlessly, clutching his ribs. He was NOT about to make that mistake again. He had thought he could just shrug it off like he always did when he was injured in a fight, which wasn't often, not badly injured anyway. This time, well, this time was different.  
  
"Help me get 'im up. Spot, is it?" Chloe asked.  
  
Spot nodded and helped haul Jack to his feet and they led him back to the bench. Angelstar pushed the carriage close to them and reached in to grab the now squeaking baby girl from the layers of blankets.  
  
Jack smiled, through his gasping and pasty complection, at the tiny baby. She immediately quieted and cooed for him, reaching for him to hold her. She had a broad dimpled smile exactly like Spot's, their eyes were the same brilliant blue. Once Jack felt he could hold her and not drop her on her head, he accepted the child to his lap. Cradling and cooing to her in a silly voice.  
  
Chloe stared at the baby, lost in her own world, thinking of her own baby sister that would have been about that age, had she lived. The remaining kids were split up and taken to the orphanages in Chicago. Chloe was so deep in her own thoughts she only caught the end of a conversation....  
  
"...'es a right fierce scrappah." Jack was crowing to Spot. "Ain'tcha kid?"  
  
"Youse really broke Oscar's nose?" Angelstar was looking at Chloe, amazed that someone had actually given the Delancey brothers what they all wanted to, pain.  
  
"Aye." She answered shyly. Not sure if she should be proud, scared, or disappointed in herself, for beating up the thug. Then she remembered the boys the Delancey's were bashing, and all doubt about having done the right thing was erased.  
  
"They actually looks woise than wese do." Jack smiled painfully.  
  
"Good on ya kid." Spot had a huge grin and, maybe even a little admiration in his eyes. "Whot's yer name?"  
  
"Chris." Chloe answered. She hated to lie to everyone but really didn't see any other options at the moment. She couldn't risk one of her Uncle's goons finding her or worse.  
  
"Not no moah." Spot chimed in. "Youse one-ah us now. A Newsie. So youse gotta have a Newsie name."  
  
"True kid." Jack nodded.  
  
"An' since youse survived a fight wit' dem Delancey boys, yer name will be 'Scrappah'." Spot announced.  
  
******* end chap 4 ******* No shout outs this time. Sorry goils! I just wanna get workin on the next part of the story. You don't mind do you? Haha, didn't think so.  
  
Thanks for readin, please leave a review about what you thought and check for more real soon.  
  
CTB4evah! -Sagey- 


	5. a look

DISCLAIMER: Don't own the Newsies. *sniffle* you guys can buy em for me for Christmas if ya wanna make me a very happy Sagey.....Angelstar isnt either, but I do luv her lots!  
  
Chapter 5  
  
The kid, newly named Scrapper, went as bright crimson as Jack's bandana. Jack smiled, this kid had heart, if nothing else. He and Spot both appreciated heart. It wasn't often that Spot took a liking to someone right off the bat, but Jack could see that Chris had made an impression. He wasn't trying to terrify him.  
  
Aiden "Spot" Conlon, and Jack had been friends for years. They had a lot of interaction as leaders of their respective bands of Newsies, and Jack could not have led the strike with such success, had it not been for Spot and his 50 Brooklyn Newsies showing up to help them when the Cribs jumped in to cause problems for the strikers.  
  
The only time they had really had problems was when Spot kicked Angelstar out when she told him she was pregnant with Haley. When Jack found her on the street, with the baby, huddled in a doorway trying to stay warm, he took Angelstar in, became Haley's Godfather, and paid Spot a visit. Small as he was, Spot was known for being tough, hell, even mean. But Jack also had a tough guy reputation. Jack beat the stuffing out of Spot. Not that Spot didn't get in some good licks, he did, but Jack had justice on his side, at least that was the way he looked at it. After effectively beating the tar out of each other, Spot seemed to see the error of his ways and took Angelstar and Haley back in. Since then Haley had been the apple of Spot's eye, he really did treat her like the Princess of Brooklyn.  
  
Angelstar, was another story. She and Spot were a volatile couple. They loved and fought with equal passion. So when things were good they were perfect and when things were bad, they were damned near deadly. Jack said a tiny silent prayer of thanks, that today it seemed to be going well. He hated to see them fight and in truth, it scared him.  
  
Holding that baby was the closest to heaven that he had found. She was his angel and had him wrapped around her tiny finger. Any kind of toughness in him, real or portrayed, was eradicated when she smiled at him.  
  
Chloe watched Jack with unveiled interest. He was a natural with children, and for a moment she caught herself wondering what he would be like with their own children someday. Ah, dinnae be daft Chloe lass, she chided, he thinks yer a lad. Don't complicate this! She turned her eyes from him before he could see her interest. She thought her musings had gone unnoticed, but they hadn't.  
  
.  
  
Spot's intense blue eyes met hers, locked, only for moment, sharing a curious look, the Brooklynite immediately understanding her thoughts, his eyes burning into her own briefly before focusing their cold attention elsewhere.  
  
Jack began to cough, deep and resonating, then went pale. He'd done too much and needed rest. "Here!" He said quickly. Chloe accepted the baby from him as he shoved her in her general direction. Once free of the little girl, Jack walked, hunched over and bracing his ribs with his arm, a little ways into the trees. He coughed and hacked until he threw up.  
  
She wanted to go to him, to help him, but, what could she really do? Besides, she was one of the guys and that would just embarrass him. So, she sat where she was and played with the baby. Haley took to her right away, not as fully as with Jack, but he was her Godfather after all.  
  
"Aww, Haley likes you Scrappah." Angelstar smiled. "She's a great judge of people."  
  
"Aye? She's a bonny wee lass." Chloe smiled and talked to the baby in the soft sing song words of a Gaelic lullaby her mother used to sing. Ailie Bain o' the glen,  
  
Bonnie lassie, winsome lassie;  
  
Ailie Bain o' the glen,  
  
Wha' could help but lo'e her?  
  
The tiny girl beamed up at her. She definitely had the look of her father, but even though her eyes were the same striking blue, her's were still innocent.  
  
Jack returned, rather green around the gills, Spot noticed. He didn't envy him at all. At least they managed to do more damage than they received. Scrapper looked a little worse for wear but all minor cuts and bruises, he was gonna have one helluva shiner. But Jack was stubborn and if he wasn't careful the broken ribs could turn on him. The kid'll watch out for him. Spot thought, and wondered about the look he'd seen earlier. Scrapper had looked like a love sick school girl. He had, of course, heard of boys liking other fellas, but...  
  
"Ah think we should go now. Jack needs 'is bed." Scrappers thick accent entered his head and he lost his thought. "Else the fever will hae him before mornin."  
  
Spot helped Scrapper half carry, half drag, Jack to the trolley stop at the edge of the park. She knew he was getting worse, the coughing fits were more common and he would turn ghost white with each turn. So, she pulled out a few coins and paid for their ride to the Manhattan Lodging House.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ END Chapter 5! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
SOs:  
  
Stretchy: me twinny! Thanks for savin my behind with your brilliant words and gettin me un-stuck. What would my poor ickle brain do wiv out your help? Have writers block - A LOT that's what! No! No Jacky-boy/Scrappah slash....lol she has the wrong bits! ;-)  
  
Ersheykins: Goily you are a life saver! You rock as always! Keep writin! Hope ya feel bettah! Make Mushy wait on you!  
  
Hopeykins: my pahtnah in crime! Hee hee and me sistah! That time with my puter down so sucked! Thanks for holdin down the fort. And thanks for the creative input! Foist kisses are gonna be fun! *grin* And I MIGHT forgive you if you get your reah in geah and start reviewing more...lol  
  
Angelstar: You RP goddess! Once again your awesome talents spark more and more ideas! Not to mention it is more fun to be Sage than me...lol  
  
Gin: You are so gifted with your writing! Hurry write more! LOL can't wait for more of Secrets Made! Yeah finally a NN but we shall see if that will stick.  
  
JulieAngelFace: Will Jack ever find out?? Hmm you'll just have to keep readin to see!  
  
Rye: Heya handsome! Shhhhh dinnae tell Jack...you know how he gets. ;-) I can't wait to work on our EQ ff! It will be loads of fun! Especially the research! *wink*  
  
Zippy: you would be amazed at the stuff they know in Chicago. *wink nod* we may just have to go find out how much. Hee Hee!  
  
Snoozah: I love all the reviews but especially on ff.net. Much easier to include ya in the shout outs that way! (Hint hint  
  
Tree: Thanks hon!  
  
Runaway: YAY! I am so glad you got your ff.net account going! Can't wait to read your stuff too! I get the feelin that Blockhead isn't the last thing Chloe is gonna call him! LOL  
  
Mayo: I'm glad you like the accents. I should be good at the Scottish one...I hear it enough, would be in trouble if I didnt get it right ;-)  
  
I know I am missing loads and I am sorry! You can hurt me if you wanna (just watch the hands or get me some voice command software...lol) or just tell me and I will include you next time! :-)  
  
A/N ok, we're gettin to the parts where everyone gets introduced and stuff. So hang in there.  
  
Thanks for reading! Leave me some feedback so I know whatcha like and whatcha don't.  
  
~Sagey~ 


	6. Healin'

RATING: PG language and theme  
  
Family by any uddah name: Chapter 6  
  
Race was sitting in the lobby of the Lodging House, he'd pulled one of the chairs from the table he usually played poker at in the evenings, and sat looking out the window, chewing on his unlit cigar. Where da hell did they go?  
  
He had told Jack he would take care of Crutchy and the Delanceys, and he had been true to his word. He'd helped get Crutchy and Specs back to the LH and the Delanceys were spending the night in jail. He wasn't a rat, he was just sick of them beatin up on Crutchy every chance they got. One of these days it would go to far, for him that day had long since passed, and end up killin the kid. He wasn't easily scared but he was very concerned for Crutchy, and each time the Delanceys thumped on Crutchy, he seemed to lose just a little of the spark in his eyes. To Racetrack, that was the worst thing he could imagine, Crutchy was a good kid and even though he'd had a hard life in is short 17 years, and always had a smile and something nice to say about nearly everyone.  
  
A horse-drawn trolley car pulled up in front of the Lodging House. Race saw the tall kid in the baggy clothing, the one that had been beating on Oscar Delancey, pulling Jack from the trolley car. Jack was pasty white and clutching his side. Before Jack was even all the way out of the trolley, Race was on his feet and out the door. "Klopman! Deh'r heah!" He shouted.  
  
Race bounded out to meet them. "You look like hell, Cowboy." He didn't mean it to sound as harsh as it did, but he was tellin the truth and they all knew it. The scrappy little Italian flung his arm around Jack's waist on his left side. With nearly a foot difference in their heights Race wasn't much help to lean on, but he could help steady him.  
  
Stretch, Mayo and Ershey, had accompanied Specs, Crutchy, Mush and Race back to the LH to look after the injured boys. Ershey had been busy running around, getting things that Stretch and Mayo asked for in caring for the boys. When Race told her that Jack and the new kid would likely be back and needing beds, she made up Jack's bed and another close by.  
  
Petite was a good word for describing Ershey. She stood only 5'2, that's shorter than Racetrack, which he liked as it ment he wasn't the smallest one in the Lodging House. She was thin and the guys teased her about being blown away with the wind if it was particularly gusty. She'd been with them ever since Race caught her lifting his money from his pocket at Sheepshead Bay. He'd felt sorry for her and that, as they say, was that.  
  
"What's wrong wit him?" Ershey asked. She had deep brown eyes, the color of the darkest chocolate, her ebony hair hung straight, nearly to her waist, and had an almost blue sheen to it.  
  
" Broken ribs, we need ta get him intae bed."  
  
"Hello?" Jack protested hoarsely, but they ignored him. "I'm right here, Scrappah, stop talkin like I ain't."  
  
"Shuddup, Jack!" Race and Ershey said in unison. Jack didn't have the energy to fight them.  
  
Ershey led them up the stairs to the bunk room. Jack wished they would have just let him pass out on the bench in the lobby. Each step jarred his ribs and sent searing pain through his lungs.  
  
Finally, they reached the bunk room. He was glad to have Scrapper helping, had it just been Race and Ershey, he was sure he would have toppled backwards on the steep stairs and fallen on his head.  
  
"Where's Specs n Crutchy?" Jack demanded once he was able to catch his breath.  
  
"In da sick room." Race said quietly. "Stretch n Mayo's in deah wit em."  
  
The Manhattan Lodging House had a small room next to the large shared washroom. It had two single beds, a table between them, and a few chairs.  
  
Jack knocked softly on the closed door. "Fellas?" He opened the door. The electric pull light was off, but there was soft light from a single oil lamp sitting on the table. Both beds were occupied by sleeping boys. "Stretch? Mayo?" Jack whispered, not wanting to disturb them.  
  
Stretch, looked up, and smiled slightly at the well worn cowboy. "You look like Hell, Jack"  
  
Jack choked on a laugh. "Yeah, been hearin that a lot taday." He felt like Hell. Bruises had started to form on his chest and face and the rest of him ached from the fight. "How ya doin kiddo?" He gave Stretch a hug from behind, saving his ribs.  
  
"I'm alright," she said, trying to sound semi cheerful. "But looks like four-eyes here ain't doin' so hot," she finished, glancing back down at Specs. His bloody wound had been cleaned but not by a doctor. If it was left the way it was he would have a terrific scar. Jack wished he had the money to hire a doctor for him.  
  
"Dis heah is Scrappah." Jack motioned to the tall kid in the doorway. "'e's da one dat rescued Specs."  
  
"Hiya" Scrapper said softly.  
  
Scrapper looked even worse than Jack did. The whole left side of the kid's face was swollen and purple. There was a small gash, from a ring Oscar was wearing, under his left eye and his lip was split and swollen. Plus he was covered in drying blood.  
  
Stretch smiled up at him. "Thanks."  
  
"Sorry I couldnae stop him from doin that." Scrapper motioned to the gash near Specs eye. "Have you called for a doctor?"  
  
Stretch chuckled slightly. "Right, a doctah," she said, somewhat sarcastic and somewhat distressed. "Dey don't come if youse can't pay."  
  
"D'ya mind if Ah tak' a look?"  
  
"Sure, look all ya want" she said, getting up from his side and stepping out of the way. "Youse jist bettah not hoit 'im."  
  
"Ah'll do me best." Scrapper removed the bandaging that was on the boys eye and began probing around. He too had a "nice shine-ah" as Spot had put it. There were still a few shards of glass imbeded, and the wound needed stitches. Both were things Scrapper had handled before. "Ershey, Race, would ya fetch some supplies for me?" They both nodded. Scrapper gave them a list of items, fresh water, bandages, forceps, needle and thread. "And the best whisky you can find, Race."  
  
"Whisky?" Stretch asked, anxiety building inside her.  
  
"Just ta dull the pain," Scraps said, before leaning over to carefully look at the wound. "He'll be needin a good bit of ya best stuff, too. But, if he gets a fever, the pain is gonna be the least of our troubles."  
  
"Blin!" she exclaimed to herself, before sitting down and whispering, "Vsyo puchkom, Vsyo puchkom," over and over again. Despite being battered and exhausted, Jack walked over and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, assuring her it would be alright.  
  
"Don't worry, Stretch. He ain't gonna let nuttin hoit him woise," Jack said, yet the slight pale color in his face showed the apprehension beneath his words. "Me da was a surgeon, taught me a few things that kin 'elp. Nae worries," he said before taking out remaining shards of glass from the large cut above Specs's eye. "Just.hold him down."  
  
The young woman's eyes were still full of worry but she had no choice, Specs was her world and she wanted him well . "Will do, I'll just pretend he pissed me off. Dumbass hot-headed..." Stretch said, beginning to wind herself up in case the opportunity presented itself. Watching as Scraps forced him to drink some whisky, keeping him from spitting it out in the process, Stretch struggled to keep his limbs from flaying in all directions.  
  
"Someone help us out here!" Jack yelled out to others waiting in the bunkroom. Moments later, Blink appeared, ready and raring to go in the doorway.  
  
"Can someone else come and help us?" Jack yelled out again as his eyes spotted the eager Blink in the doorway.  
  
"What's wrong with him helping'?" Scrappah asked, as he began the first stitch to sew Specs's wound. Almost instantaneously, Blink passed out, Scrappah staring in his direction in utter confusion, yet those who knew him well enough simply pushed him aside and waited until later to deal with him.  
  
"He hates blood," Race answered from the doorway, yet at this point the fact was unnecessary, and Scraps simply shrugged and continued with the problem at hand. Race and Stretch held Specs down, Jack at his head to keep it still.  
  
Stretch simply shook her head. "Men are such babies," she whispered under her breath before yelling, "Stop strugglin', it doesnt hurt!" at Specs. Scraps laughed under his breath at the hot-headed girl before him.  
  
"Ya still wit me lass?" he asked her. It couldn't be easy to watch someone you care about hurt like that.  
  
"Yeah, I'm still with ya. But the sooner we get this over with the better," she said, still struggling to keep Specs down. "Do ya want me ya hit ya? I will. I swear ta God and all that is good and holy, I will beat the...." she continued.  
  
Before long, Scraps had Specs sutured and bandaged, and Crutchy's bleeding leg dressed with what little bandage material they had. Watching as Jack and Race left to go for a walk, worn out from the day's events, Scraps turned to the now calm Stretch in an attempt to start a conversation that didn't involve blood and needles.  
  
"Who's that?" Scraps asked, looking at Blink who was now pushed out of the way, still lying unconscious near the sleeping Crutchy.  
  
"That's Kid Blink. Nice kid. Good intentions. Best not ta ask 'bout the eye patch though. No one knows the truth 'bout that but him and God, and I ain't about ta ask neither."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind," he laughed, suddenly becoming more comfortable in the quiet room with the newsgirl there to talk to. "Do you know where I can get cleaned up? Or new clothes? Anything?" Stretch nodded, and carefully leaving Specs's side, she led Scraps down the hall to a small closet, filled with old tattered shirts, torn pants, and worn boots.  
  
"Everything ya need is in there. If something' don't fit, just say something' and one of the boys is bound ta trade something' with ya." As Scraps picked out several shirts and pairs of pants to try on, Stretch showed him around the lodging house, introducing the odd newsie they would occasionally bump into on the grand tour.  
  
".And this is the place we sleep. The infamous bunkroom. Loads of noise, until Kloppy comes ta threaten ta throw us all out on the streets, waving' a broom around," the newsgirl finished, laughing to herself at the thought.  
  
"An' where can ya go ta just.get away?" Scrappah asked, looking around his new busy sleeping quarters.  
  
"Easy. The roof. Half of these boys is afraid of heights and the other half is too busy ta want quiet half the time. A good place ta just gather ya thoughts. If ya want ya can go up there now. I'll make sure no one bothers ya."  
  
Scrappah smiled gratefully, and crawled out to the fire escape and up to the roof. As he, or rather she now, seeing as she was allowed to think and act however she wanted now she was on her own, sat there staring at the evening sky, she breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't the worst it could have been, and at least Specs and Crutchy, not to mention Jack, were all alright now. Bringing her legs to her chest and resting her head on her knees, she thought of all that had happened, all that could happened, and thought it best to spend as little time with the newsies as possible. Sure, they were nice and all, but she couldn't risk them finding out her secret, no matter how badly she wanted to tell them. Not only would she be in danger if that happened, they would too. Namely Jack.  
  
Consequently, she spent the majority of the next few days on the roof, yet her heart was inside the noisy bunkroom, dying to converse with rambunctious crowd inside.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ END CHAPTER 6 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Special thanks to Stretch!!!! Without her I would still be stuck and you wouldn't be reading this! She helped write a good deal of this chapter and she did a fabulous job! Thanks TWINNY! Mwah! xoxoxox  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Newsies (sniffle sniffle sob) This is written for entertainment purposes only. Sage/Scrapper is mine, Ershey, Stretch and Mayo appear thanks to their creators. THANKS GOILS!  
  
SO:  
  
Stretchy: Honey you are awesome! Thank you so much for your help! Mwah! Ershey: Your endless energy for reading my story keeps me going! I will get your stuff edited soon I PROMISE!  
  
Mayo: Heya sweetie, I will actually give you stuff to do soon I promise!  
  
Angelstar: Awesome ideas and support as always! Luv ya goily!  
  
Ry: LOL! You are so cute! My sexy kilted man...hey, guys that like Newsies are a good thing in my book! We need to work on our fic! I'm so glad you luv Chloe! MWAH xxxx  
  
Hopey: Hiya sistah! We need to work on that RP! I am excited to get to the next scene for the Story! YAY! Get your stuff up so I can read it! ALL of your stuff! Hurry! Hee Hee! Xxxx  
  
Gin: You are so lovely! Keep writing am am dying to read your next chapter!  
  
Ladykins: Oh! Hurry and catch up so you can tell me what you think! And can't wait for your ff! YAY  
  
Snooza1: *GRINZ* Jack and Haley are really cute aren't they? Hee hee! He may get to have his own later on I don't know.  
  
And to anyone I may have missed: I LOVE YOU!  
  
Keep reading and reviewing! I love to hear from you all! 


	7. Reflections

**Well, since FFNET has decided we can no longer do songfics I have to remove this chapter. I needed to rewrite it anyway but I'm not very happy about all of this. I always credit when I use a song but evidently that isn't good enough. :grumbles:**

**H'anyway, I will re-post this chap when I have it reworked.**

**In the meantime, I will probably post my song fics on my Newsies site.**

**Sagey**


	8. Tawkin

Chapter 8  
  
"Fine, talk!" Jack said curtly. His eyes were inky in the darkness and he looked mean. Jack frowned. He hadn't meant to be so harsh. He knew better than anyone that sometimes circumstances required a person to do things they would normally never do.  
  
Scrapper closed her eyes, sat up straight and took a deep breath as if donning armor to protect her soul in a fight for everything that she had. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and raised her face so she could meet his gaze straight on. Her thick braid draped over her right shoulder. As she opened her mouth to speak, Chloe wished desperately for a glass of water. She swallowed hard. Nothing was helping dislodge the lump in her throat.  
  
"I...I..." she stuttered. Tears welled up in her eyes and she cursed in Gaelic under her breath at her self for allowing her emotions to have so much control over her instead of it being the other way around. She dropped her head and angrily swiped the tears from her eyes with her fists. Her jaw set tightly as she willed herself to regain control. Chloe wanted desperately to tell him everything, but the words just wouldn't come to her. She wanted nothing more than for him to hold her, allowing her to feel safe and warm again.  
  
Soft tendrils of curls blew loose and danced on her face. She suddenly looked fragile like a china doll. Suddenly it made sense, the soft features, the aversion to getting too chummy with the fellas, hiding beneath the baggy clothing and tattered cap. So she HAD pretended to be a boy. Big deal. He'd heard of that being necessary, especially on the frontier, to protect women from being assaulted by lowlifes that would jump at any chance to take advantage of a defenseless woman with no protection. Jack felt like a complete ass. He hadn't meant to make her cry.  
  
He reached out his hand, running his fingers lightly over the dark bruise over her eye, then down along the edge of her jaw. He lifted her chin, that defiant chin, so he could see her face again. She was pretty, even with the shiner. Fair skin contrasting with the black eye. Her eyes were framed softly by thick dark lashes that were longer naturally, than many women had with adding false lashes. The silvery moonlight mixed with the deep green and made her eyes a mystical mix of the two colors.  
  
His thumb swept away the lone tear that slid down her cheek.  
  
"I'm sorry, Chris..." He started to apologize for being a jerk.  
  
"Chloe." She managed to choke out.  
  
"Chloe." He smiled at hearing her name. It felt nice rolling off his tongue. His left eyebrow cocked up slightly. His hand still framing her jaw. "Ya don't have to say nuttin more. 'Less ya wanna." The words sounded foreign to his ears, he wanted her to tell him what she was running from, trust him to protect her. He would, protect her, they would all protect her, she was one of HIS newsies and they all had each other's backs. But, more than that, he had felt the need to protect her from the first moment he saw her in Central Park. He was relieved to know she was a girl. Spot had been giving him a hard time earlier that night, about the kid makin' eyes at him like a love sick school girl and Jack returning the looks.  
  
Jack moved closer to her, positioning himself so he was facing her but sitting slightly to the side so they were nearly shoulder to shoulder. She still looked terrified, but not of him. "C'mere." He took her in his arms and gathered her close to him. Her head laying comfortably against his chest. She made no noise, but allowed the tears to flow, soaking the front of his once white shirt. He stroked her hair as he spoke softly to her, mostly nonsense words that he would use with a small child or injured animal. He hated to see a girl cry, any girl, but especially one of his friends. Rather than turn from it though, like Spot did, he would try to comfort them.  
  
He hadn't seen her cry before this, not even when she'd been banged up from the fight with Oscar. And she had handled herself so well when she stitched up Specs eye and tended to Crutchy and himself. She was a tough kid. But, he wasn't sure Scrappah really fit her anymore. He'd think of something.  
  
"It's gonna be alright, Chloe." He soothed. He had no idea if this was true but he would do his best to make it so.  
  
"Jack Kelly! Git yer filthy paws offa me sistah!" Boomed a familiar voice from the fire escape.  
  
Jack froze and Chloe sat up instantly. They both turned to the fire escape to see Hope standing with her hands on her hips. A fierce mother lion look on her face. Her curly black locks blew wildly about her face as a gust of wind whipped across the roof.  
  
"Cowboy's got 'is hands on yer what?" asked Spot as he scrambled up behind her, followed so closely by Racetrack, that when he stopped next to Hope, Race bumped into him.  
  
"What da Hell?" Race's jaw dropped.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
END CHAP 8 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 


	9. Sistahs

Chapter 9  
Sistahs  
  
"Ise tellin ya Hope, dis kid could be yer bruddah!" Spot exclaimed. "'E's got da brogue, an da green eyes, an'..."  
  
"Aye, Spot. Ah, heard ya twice da foist time. But, ya said 'e called himsel' Chris." Hope's left brow raised and her right dipped slightly at him. Why would Jamie call himself Chris? She didn't think it could possibly be her twin brother. She had looked for him everywhere since their separation at the orphanage more than a year before, but even Spot with his endless supply of information from all of his "boids" couldn't locate him. She had resigned herself to the fact that he wasn't in New York and if she did find him it wouldn't be soon. First her parents and little brother and sister died, then her older sister Chloe, right before she ran from the orphanage. It just wasn't fair! That left Jamie and six year old Hanna as her only family in America, but she didn't know where either of them were. Well, other than Spot and the Brooklyn crew, that is. They were her family now.  
  
"Yeah, well you knows how tings ah."  
  
She nodded. Hope had been with Brooklyn for a year, and one thing she had learned was that people were much more complicated than the names they used.  
  
"Even if he ain't yer bruddah, will ya come meet 'im Hope? I think he could use a friend. He don't tawk much wit anyone but me, an even den he don't say much. " Jack frowned. "You knows Gaelic right?"  
  
"Aye, Ah've no been gone fae Scotland tha' long Jack." She mocked.  
  
Hope managed to wait for about an hour after Jack left, then decided she wanted to meet this "Chris" sooner ....than later.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
She stepped out onto the dark roof.  
  
Jack was cradling someone in his arms. Hope turned on her heal to leave, not wanting to disturb Jack and whomever he was "charmin". He had a reputation as a ladies man, and since Sarah Jacobs had broken his heart, he was "charmin" a lot of girls, and there were plenty more falling all over themselves to get his attention.  
  
"It's gonna be awright Chloe." Jacks voice and then his words made her stop in her tracks and turn back to them.  
  
'Chloe?! ' Hope shook her head in an effort to rid her of her dilusional hearing. She stepped to the side so she could see the embracing couple better. Hope's eyes nearly popped out of her head. Sure enough, wrapped in Jack Kelly's arms was her sister. Very much alive!  
  
Hope liked Jack, he was always nice to her, but she was NOT about to watch him "charm" her own sister!  
  
"Jack Kelly! Git yer filthy paws offa me sistah!" She shouted.  
  
Chloe sat up and turned to see her younger sister, Cayleigh, looking very much like their mother. She blinked at the young woman Cayleigh had become in just over a year. Chloe knew that Spot and Race had burst onto the scene, but for her, once she saw her lost sister standing there, commanding their attention, nothing else registered. "Cayleigh!?" Her mind shouted, but the words came out as a whisper.  
  
"Buíochas le Dia" the girls both said softly, thanking God the other was alive.  
  
"Um, I'm wit Race on dis one." Jack said watching the two girls. "What da Hell is goin on?"  
  
Before anyone could say another word, Hope took off across the roof at a dead run. Everyone expected a touching reunion. They even had smiles on their faces. Somewhat confused smiles, but smiles none the less. But, in stead of a warm hug, Hope pulled up just short of running Chloe over. "Ah' you alright?" she asked looking her up and down. Taking in the bruises and fat lip, she frowned.  
  
"Aye." Chloe whispered. Only Jack and Hope heard her. She was gobsmacked! A total loss for words. She'd hoped to find her sister but hadn't expected to, so to see her right there, on the rooftop of the Newsies Lodging House!? She was stunned.  
  
Hope grabbed Chloe by the shoulders, shaking her so violently her teeth clacked together. "Where the HELL 'ave you been!?" She shouted not three inches from Chloe's face. Her accent thickening as she went on. "'ow could ya leh' me think tha' you were..." Hopes eyes filled with tears. They started to flow as she let the moment overcome her. "Damnit Chloe! I thought ya was dead!"  
  
Chloe pulled the younger girl to her, now jostled by blows of Cayleigh's fists, against her shoulders. Frustration and desperate sorrow mixed with sheer relief, flooded from them as they both sank to the floor in tears. Chloe, quickly switching to the roll of soother and protector, whispered to Cayleigh. Most of it was in Gaelic, but there were occasional words Jack understood, even with the thick Scots cloaking them. "Shhh, dinny cry....it's alright noo....." Chloe stroked her sister's hair in much the same way Jack had stroked hers just moments before. "Ah'm here noo, Mo luaidh." They rocked back and forth, clutching eachother, afraid to let go.  
  
Jack looked helplessly at the tangled mass of curls before him. Red and black contrasting sharply, even in the moonlight. Not Hope's brother, but her sister that was said to have died? Could life be any more complicated? He asked himself with a short laugh then regretted asking the question. He knew better than to tempt the fates that way.  
  
Hope pulled away so she could see Chloe. A flood of questions started to spill from her mouth all at once. "Where?...What?...How!?"  
  
Race finally closed his mouth. A look from Jack, that would have made a rival turn away and run, merely made Race say, "Uh, maybe we should leave youse two alone ta catch up." He turned, elbowing a stunned Spot into joining him in his retreat. "C'mon Spot, I gotta new game ta show ya."  
  
"Oh, Hell no! I ain't..."Spot started in protest until it dawned on him that it was just an excuse to leave the girls with some privacy. "Uhh, right! Why don't youse show me dat then Race..." he stammered.  
  
"Yeah," Jack rose to his feet, "Jist down staihs if ya need...umm..."With that Jack started toward Race and Spot.  
  
"No!" Chloe called to them. "Please. Stay. Ah owe an explanation ta you ah'most as much as Ah do to Cayleigh."  
  
The three boys shrugged and gathered round the girls, plopping themselves down on either side of them.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ End Chapter 9 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N : I know I know!!!! I am a terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad Sagey! I just didn't know where else to stop. Hmmms Cliffhangers, it's a good thing. *WINK* "BUíochas le Dia" is Gaelic for "Thank God". "Ah'm here noo, Mo luaidh." means: "I'm here now, My Darling." If you have questions about the Gaelic, please ask me. I hope you enjoy reading this. Let me know by leaving feedback. Reet, thass me dun! Luv yas! ~Sagey~  
  
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	10. Revelations

**_Chapter 10  
  
Revelation  
  
RATED PG_**  
  
How does one even begin to tell a story like mine? I had no clue. But, the four people before me were family. Okay, Cayleigh was family, and the other three were as close as I had to it besides her.  
  
Jack sat closest to me. My savior, really he was. I can only imagine where I would be had he not brought me to the LH. Probably dead, knowing the way things were going.  
  
I smiled sheepishly, wishing that they could some how not need to know what I was about to tell them. The rooftop breeze tickled at my neck and sent a sharp chill down my back. Enough of one that Jack slid himself a little closer and draped an arm around my shoulders protectively. I could feel his warmth spread through me like hot cocoa on a frigid January day in the Highlands. I let myself settle into his embrace, just a bit, grateful for the support it gave.  
  
I let out a heavy sigh.  
  
I guess you could say I lived a charmed life. At least until we moved to America. I had loving parents -that, unlike so many others, believed that their children, even the girls, had a right to education and to be anything they wished to be in life, as long as we worked for it- brothers and sisters that I loved dearly, and enough money to live comfortably. I wanted, more than anything, to be a doctor. So when my father was offered a teaching position at Children's Memorial, and partnership with a lucerative private practice in Chicago, he accepted. It was s'posed to be the perfect opportunity, not just for him, we children would have a better chance of attending a good university, and with my grades and my father's influence, I was guaranteed a student's position once my other schooling was finished. So we packed up, sold most of our belongings, and set sail for the "promised land".  
  
Glasgow harbor, was dark and foreboding the morning we set off, setting the tone for the voyage, and the next few years of my life.  
  
Alistair, my youngest brother, died while we were at sea. Pneumonia developed from influenza and claimed him, three days shy of his ninth birthday. Even Papa couldn't save him. We couldn't even give him a proper Christian burial. The ship's Captain said a few words and Duncan's body, along with six others, was deposited into its watery grave. Mamma cried every day after that.  
  
We finally made it to America. Nearly everyone on the ship was ill by this time, and we spent the first two weeks in quarantine on Elis Island.  
  
Six months later, we had settled into a lovely home near Lake Michigan. It was large and clean, with more than enough room a nursery, and for each of the children to have our own room. We were all in school, except Hannah, she had another year to wait. Father was one of the most popular instructors at Children's Memorial and his practice was thriving. Mother was expecting again. I was working at Father's practice after school and was excelling in my studies. Life was good, little did we know, it was just the calm before the storm.  
  
Christmas Eve, 1898. I accompanied Papa to do some last minute gift buying. He'd decided to replace the small diamond in Mama's wedding ring, with a larger clearer stone, so we stopped by Saul's, a popular jewelers, to pick up Mama's finished ring. It was stunning. The small round stone had been replaced with a two carat emerald cut diamond that had a slight bluish coloring. Saul presented the ring to Papa in a hand carved wooden box that looked like the head of a thistle. While we were admiring the ring, two men, with hoods covering their faces, armed with guns, burst through the door guns blazing. I still don't know why they did what they did. There were a lot of theories floating around, but frankly none of them made much sense to me. All I know is that when the smoke cleared Papa, and three others, were dead, Mama's ring was gone, and nothing in my life would ever be the same. I still carry a scar through my left eyebrow, from hitting the counter when Papa tackled me to the floor. They never caught the bastids.  
  
Three months later Mama and my baby sister died in childbirth.  
  
I tried to keep us all together. I was only 14, but managed to keep us in our home for a few months. But soon, things began to fall apart. I left Cayleigh in charge while I went to see Papa's business partner. We needed money, and he had promised to pay us for the half of the business we owned. I arrived to find the office empty, he had fled with our money.  
  
The walk home was the longest of my life. It seemed like one of those dreams where you walk and walk but the place you are going just seems further away with each step. I had used the very last of our money that morning to buy milk for Hanna, and had expected to have enough to pay for a carriage home after seeing Dr. Campbell. It was drizzling and the slush entered each stitch in my boots and the hole in my stockings, taking hold of my bones like an icy claw. I shivered and pulled my cloak tighter around me. By the time I got home, my fingers had turned blue and my feet were numbed from the cold.  
  
I reached the front door, but rather than being greeted by my sisters and brother, with tea or soup to warm me, the house was dark and empty. A note was tacked to the locked door that said my siblings had been taken into custody by the State of Illinois. But there was no signature or address. I have been looking for them ever since.

* * *

**_End Chapter 10_**  
  
_**A/N : Ok, tried something a little new. Hope it isn't too distracting. Let me know what you think.  
**_  
SOs:  
  
Hopeyyyy: Ya nuttah! Thanks for all the reviews even if you were just takin the mick! Luv ya sissy! More RP! Hee hee! luv ya!  
  
Stretchy: Twinnnny! You are such a doll! Thanks for the shoulder and lettin me vent! luv ya!  
  
Ersheykins: I will give ya more ta do in it soon! Really I will!  
  
Ravey: I'm so glad you luffle my story! Enough twists in it yet? Nah, didn't think so!  
  
Ry: Heya Dahlin! I'm so glad you like it! We need to work on EQ soon! xxx  
  
Angelstar: Hey miss ya hope you will be back soon! I wanna RP!  
  
Tree, Moon and Zip! My faithful reviewers! Thanks goils!  
  
Gin: Thanks for all your great feedback! Your story sooo rocks! More please!  
  
Coin: Heya goily! That is so kewl! I wish my folks spoke Gaelic! You should feel smaht! Gaelic isn't easy to understand. I hope ya like the story.  
  
Thistle: my fellow Utahn! I luv yer stories girlie! Let me know more about that concert with AFI!  
  
Puck: Thanks for givin my story a second home! Glad ya likey  
  
Sling: GET TO WORK! I wanna read more from you soon!  
  
Evenstar: Thanks for the encouragement! I hope ya like it.  
  
Bookie: Heya! You are coming up soon! I have so much to do.  
  
Beauti: Heya icklest sis! WOW I have a big family now! WHOOT  
  
My new buddies from chat! I'm terrible with names. Sorry, but know I am thinking bout ya! LOL we HAVE to do that again!  
  
KAT: Heya hun! I am listing you last only cos you are new to reading my story. BUT you know where you are in me heart! I can't wait for you to get here to visit! xxx  
  
_**I know I am forgetting others....I don't mean too! Just remind me! Or better yet, post feedback and I will remember to give ya a SO.  
  
Ok, you know the drill. Read Review = Happy Sagey (hee hee)  
  
I think you guys know the disclaimer by now....DONT own newises, wanna have Jack under my christmas tree in nuttin but a big red bandana...lol**_


	11. Revelations Cont

Chapter 11  
  
Jack sat close to Chloe. His arm around her shoulders in an effort to lend support and a little warmth. It felt comfortable to be holding her like that, as if he were meant to be her rock, a stabilizing force in her uncertain world.  
  
Ever since the first day they met, and they had taken on the Delancey boys together, Chloe felt like there wasn't anything in the world she couldn't accomplish as long as Jack was by her side. But, she was still unsure of exactly what she should share with them. She took a deep breath, Cayleigh gave her hand a squeeze, sparking an uncertain smile between the long lost sisters.  
  
"Ah went ta see Dr Campbell for the money he owed Papa," she was staring at her sister's face, still not believing she was there. "When Ah returned," she swallowed hard to keep tears from flowing again, "ya were gone, da house locked tighter than the Queen's jewel chest. I searched and searched for days, but it was so cold an' Ah became ill. Spent some time in 'ospital, Ah, dinny ken how long."  
  
Cayleigh sat there not wanting to hear this, she knew her sister had suffered over the past two years, as had she, but hearing it from her; hearing her pain, made her own heart hurt. And the fact that there was nothing she could do to help made it worse. She just gently squeezed her sister's hand offering the only comfort she could.  
  
It hadn't quite sunk in for Spot that Scrapper was a girl. She'd roughed up Morris Delancey for cryin out loud, broken his nose. The thought of it still made him smile. He'd even toyed with the idea of asking Scrapper if he...err, she, wanted to be a Brooklyn Newsie. He could use a kid with heart like that in his gang. He'd hoped that Scrapper was Hope's twin brother, she missed him desperately, never imagining that Scrapper would be the dead sister he'd watched Hope cry for, in the dark silence of the Lodging House, when she was missing her family and thought no one could see her.  
  
"Ah spent a few months at an orphanage, they'd already split youse up and placed Hanna with a family." She shrugged. "Then Auntie Liz's husband sent for me. Said she'd passed jist after they wed, consumption, an' he 'owed it to her to take care of us.' Uncle William promised to help locate you and bring us back together. He even hired Pingertam Detectives to help." Cayleigh gave no signs of recognition to hearing their Aunt had a husband named William. Chloe hadn't known either, until he sent for her.  
  
"Pingertam?" Race said softly to himself, around the fat cigar in his mouth. Removing it, he said, "Err, ya mean Pinkerton?"  
  
Chloe nodded, a little embarrassed at not knowing the correct name.  
  
"Pinkertons!" Spot's eyes lit up with recognition. "Dey always git dehr man."  
  
Jack nodded, "Dey musta cost a fortune!"  
  
Chloe shrugged, looking at Jack. "Uncle Wil" she started but couldn't bare to call him her uncle anymore. She cleared her throat and started again. "William Bristol has connections." Her eyes held a sadness, a defeated broken look at the mention of his name. Jack made note of the pain in her eyes. "Yer Uncle is William Bristol?" Spot asked, awestruck.  
  
"He owns half a Coney Island!" Race's cigar hung in mid air for a moment as he took it all in. Then took a long drag.  
  
"You know him?" Cayleigh asked raising her brows at Racetrack. She was curious as to who this man was and why, if he was so connected, had they not sent for her, Hanna and Jamie? And why was her sister masquerading as a newsboy of all things?  
  
He blew the smoke out in rings and then a steady stream. "Anybody dat goes ta Sheepshead Bay ta play da horses knows of William Bristol. 'E's a legend." Race's reaction to William Bristol's name was a bit unsettling for Chloe, and he noticed it almost immediately.  
  
Chloe frowned, her eyes darkened and she began studying her fingernails. Her hands looked foreign to her, she was used to creamy rose scented lotions keeping them soft, and her nails being clean, polished and perfectly shaped. Rubbing the chipped edges, she wished for a nail file."You dinny ken whot 'e's like." Chloe's words were soft and flat. She began twisting the small silver Celtic knot work band on her middle finger. Playing with it, sliding it back and forth on her finger.  
  
Race's smile faded. He'd known Jack and Spot longer than he had known any one related to him by blood. Cayleigh had been part of his life for more than a year, they weren't terribly close, but they talked on occasion, and got along well when they were together. If she needed something he would do what he could. And now Chloe had joined them -his new gambling buddy that actually beat him, was also part of his 'family'. A family that had proven much stronger than any blood ties most of them had. God had thrust them all together for a reason. And he, Anthony "Racetrack" Higgins, was not one to question God's actions. He reached out and patted Chloe's knee. An offer of peace and encouragement. "Yer right kiddo, I don't. Sorry."  
  
Chloe gave Race a shy smile, but he noticed it didn't reach her eyes. After he withdrew his hand, she pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them close to her with her arms and resting her cheek on her arm. Jack's arm was a bit displaced by her action, but he didn't pull away, he merely moved his hand up so he could play with the soft chunks of stray curls that had burst free of her thick braid. His mother's hair was curly like Chloe's, and close to the same color. He'd loved playing with her hair as a child. He felt a pang of sorrow for this girl, for both sisters, that had lost their mother and then been thrust apart when they needed each other most. He'd been on his own a long time, and he still missed his mother when he allowed himself to think of things other than daily survival or his Newsies.  
  
"Hadn't been there even a week when he changed towards me." She turned to look at the all too quiet Cayleigh. "He's no half the man Papa was." She knew Cayleigh was upset with her for not bringing them back together. How could she make her understand it just wasn't safe?  
  
"Bristol likes his whisky." Chloe started. "But he canny hold it well. Makes him think he's a boxer and I got to be his practice bag."  
  
Spot lit a cigarette and listened with his eyes closed as Chloe told of the past two years of her life. He wished Angelstar had come with him, she was much better at the touchy feely type stuff, and he got the feeling Hope and Chloe would both be needing that. 'Heh, Broads!' he thought dragging the nicotine into his lungs. 'I ain't nevah gonna understand em.'  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
END CHAP 11  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
SOs to all my girls that kept on me to get writin' and not give up on this story!  
  
My sistahs:  
  
Stretchypooh (twinny) you are a constant inspiration. Thanks for everything! Get writin!  
  
Hopeykins (also twinny...hehe) WRITE MORE NOW! I am needing my JAL, BiTN and Letting Go fixes! And we need to finish our RPs!  
  
Angelstar - Hey Sis! We need to RP and I need to find an elvish name. Hee Hee  
  
Beauti me icklest (littlest) Sis! You are so stunning! And not just in your heart! Keep writin!  
  
Ershey - Ok goily! Here is my chap! Where is the new one you promised! I love your Racetrack story! Keep up the good work! And BTW its good to see different stuff with characters. It ain't like HE is historically accurate anyway...lol...Oh and I need my Mush stories!  
  
Ravey - EEP! (Haha) You need to write some more! Gin- Thanks for your "reminders" to write...lol...I wouldn't want you to stop writin SM! I couldnt live with that guilt...and I'd be lynched! I can't wait to read more!  
  
Ry - My kilted muse! HeeHee! We need to work on our EQ RP and are we gonna write it as a story too? We should do a FF. Wonder if Jace is gonna let you in her Cady all soaked!? *hands you a towel* mwah! Xx  
  
Runaway  
  
Moon  
  
Tree  
  
Celtic  
  
Thank you for the FB! I have the feeling I am forgetting people, I'm sorry! Leave FB on ff.net and I will remember.  
  
Thanks for readin! AND I LOVE YOU ALL FOR VOTING FOR FAMILY ON NML! I won 2nd place in Misc FF with Original Characters. 


	12. Memories of a nightmare

A/N: This chapter is longer than my others and it is a lot more intense. It's rated PG-13 for language, violence and sexual assault. It's written mostly in flashback form. Thanks for reading! Please leave FB for me, I would really like to know what you think.  
  
Chapter 12  
  
"Oh! But ya do look a picture Miss Chloe!" Janet exclaimed as Chloe spun around in the newly finished ball gown, the shirts swishing around her ankles. "A right Princess!" Janet shoved straight pins into the pin cushion that was tied to her wrist with a red ribbon. "D'ya like it?" Janet had been working on the gown for months, her evenings spent designing and sewing thousands of tiny glass and silver beads to the bodice and skirts.  
  
Chloe smiled as she danced around the room to music in her head. "Och aye, Janet! Tis beautiful!" It was the first dress she had with a neckline not reaching her chin. Layers of white silk cascaded from the hand beaded bodice. Unlike the dresses worn during the day, in 1900 Chicago, this ball gown was off the shoulder with silk draped from the neckline and no sleeves to speak of. Chloe was well endowed with womanly virtues, something that until now, in this dress, no one would have really guessed at existing. She stopped in front of a full length mirror. She turned, this way and that to get the best and most angles possible. She was a little self conscious with the exposure to the tops of her breasts, revealing a hint cleavage, Just enough to entice the young men, but not label her anything but a lady.  
  
Chloe had seen a gown like hers only once, a visiting Countess had put in an appearance at a charity ball benefitting her father's hospital, and had worn a white gown with silver beading. There had been a picture of the Countess in the Chicago Sun Times, which she cut out and tacked to her wall. It was something from the pages of Cinderella, and she very much felt like a Fairytale princess.  
  
There was to be a ball, on her sixteenth birthday, just two weeks away, a Debutante Ball where she would be introduced to the best and brightest of Chicago society. It would be a formal affair, every eligible young man around, would be there in tuxedos and other formal garb, other single young ladies would attend as well. She would be expected to attend a flurry of parties and balls and eventually, accept an offer of marriage from a respectable match. Someone Bristol would approve of. She rolled her emerald eyes at the thought of marrying one of the stuffed shirts her "Uncle" had introduced her to over the months leading up to the ball. She wanted to follow her father's steps and become a brilliant doctor. She didn't want to worry about planning and attending so many parties, because it was her duty, that she couldn't be a doctor and raise her own family. Her parents had been different in that respect. They had money and status, but they would never have dreamed of having a governess raise their children. And, if she did marry, she wanted it to be for love, and not politics and status.  
  
"It's perfect Janet!" She exclaimed, giving the young woman a hug.  
  
Janet O'Brian, was in her early twenties. She had been Chloe's companion since moving into Bristol's mansion, it would not have been appropriate for her to live there without some sort of female influence. Janet was tall like Chloe, but she was rail thin. Her brown hair had no natural curl to it and hung straight and silky to the middle of her back. She normally wore it up in a bun atop her head, but in her off time, she let it hang loose with just the sides pulled back from her face.  
  
Chloe considered her a friend and even a sister, but in the real world, Janet was a servant and not equal in status.  
  
Janet looked out the double doors leading to the balcony, it was late now, the rain had stopped, leaving puddles around the estate grounds. Had it been daylight, she was sure Chloe would have wanted to "go puddle jumpin". She said that splashing from puddle to puddle reminded her of her sisters, Cayleigh and Hannah, and that Cayleigh's twin brother, Jamie, would have hurried around ahead of the girls to collect the earthworms that always appeared when the rains came. Jamie and Chloe would then go fishing in a stream near their home. Janet's thoughts were interupted by the door to Chloe's room slamming open.  
  
William Bristol was a large man. He stood 6'2" and as he spent his leisure time, as many wealthy men of his time did, at a gentleman's boxing club, he was slim with well defined muscles, especially in his chest and arms. Bristol stood in the doorway, his normally flawless grooming had been tossed to the winds and his hair hung in his eyes. He'd left the estate dressed to the nines, and by the looks of it, he'd had more than his share of wine, women, and song. His previously pristine starched shirt, hung lopsided and wrinkled, the buttons haphazzardly connected, most in the incorrect holes. Harlot red lip rouge joined the stains from what looked to be port and whisky. The last was just a guess, but he smelled ripe and full of Scotch.  
  
Bristol's hazel eyes were bloodshot and his nose was red from partaking of the evenings libations. "Leave!" he glared at Janet. "Now!" He bellowed.  
  
She had seen him in such a temper many times over the past few years, and though he never touched her, she was terrified of him. Janet looked up at Chloe, hesitant to leave her alone with him, afraid that he would beat on her again. Bristol grabbed her arm tightly, his fingers digging into her flesh as he dragged her across the room and shoving her out the door. He pushed her with such force she tumbled to the floor in a heap of skirts.  
  
Bristol then slammed the heavy mahogany door shut with a 'bang' that rattled the windows and chandeliers all the way down the hall. He turned his master key in the lock, turned his vicious gaze to Chloe, and stalked forward. Chloe resisted the urge to back up, there was no where for her to go really, so she pulled herself to her full height and braced herself for what she knew was coming.  
  
"Well, well, finally dressed as the whore you are I see!" Bristol licked his lips as he grabbed her upper arms, wrinkling the stark white fabric with his filthy hands. Chloe wanted to wretch at the smell of his breath. She made a face and pulled her head back in a futile attempt to avoid the stench. This only angered him further. Bristol spun them around and forced her across the room, slamming her into the wall with such force that her head snapped back, smashing through the plaster, leaving an imprint about an inch deep. The cruel action left her stunned and breathless.  
  
Bristol allowed his dirty fingers to trace the neckline of the gown, stopping at her breasts then caressed the visible cleavage lightly as if he were with a lover rather than his niece.  
  
Chloe shook her head and tears stung her eyes. "Please, stop."  
  
She could hear Janet pounding on the door, desperate to get to her, to save her, not yet realizing that there was nothing for her to do. Calling the magistrate again would be useless, he was Bristol's best mate from college and his connections and Bristol's money greased the palms of enough people in high places that he was basically untouchable.  
  
Bristol slapped her, his signate ring split her cheek. Warm blood flowed down her face, mixing with her tears and splattering on the front of the alabaster gown. "Stupid Scottish whore!" he yelled, his words breaking through the haze in her mind. "Now look what you've done! This dress cost me a mint and you've gone and ruined it!"  
  
Chloe pulled herself away from the wall and shoved at him with all of her strength. He was half a foot taller and nearly double her weight, but he'd had a lot of whisky so he stumbled backwards enough for her to dart across the room. But the layers of skirts wrapped around her legs slowing her down enough for him to gain his bearings and lunge at her. He snatched up a fist full of her curls and wrapped his fist into her hair yanking her head back and causing her to stop just feet from the door. He dragged her backwards to him. "That, luv, was a big mistake!" he hissed in her ear, his hot breath on her neck sent chills of disgust through her body. He touched his tongue to her throat and dragged it up to her ear then across her face to her mouth leaving a sickeningly slimy trail. He claimed her mouth then, kissing her hard, bruising her lips. She tried to fight him but he had her hair so tight she couldn't move her head. When his tongue tried to pry her lips open she quickly opened her mouth and bit him until she tasted blood. He yelped and brought his empty hand into a fist and struck her temple hard enough to knock her unconscious.  
  
She awoke on her bed, pinned beneath him, to him groping her breasts through the gown. He wasn't pleased with the feel of all of the beads in his hand so he pushed himself up so he could see and grabbed the top of the bodice. With a grunt he yanked the delicate garment and ripped the dress to Chloe's waist, exposing her breasts. She began squirming beneath him. He'd yanked up her skirts and she could feel the cool air and the wool of his trousers against her thighs. "No!" she screamed but she had no breath to propel the protest from her lips. It came out as a hoarse whisper.  
  
Once again, Bristol began groping her breasts with his clammy hands against her flesh. Chloe reached out around her, desperately grabbing for something to defend herself with. While his hands were fumbling drunkenly over her body, bruising and scratching her, she felt the cool porcelain pitcher and wash basin resting on her night table. Wildly grasping the handle of the heavy pitcher, she pulled it to her and wacked him over the head with it, shattering the pitcher, water and shards of porcelain flying everywhere and blood gushing from his temple. He cried out stunned, but not deterred and began prying her thighs apart with his knee. Cursing her under his breath, slurring the words so badly she couldn't quite make out what he was saying. She screamed and pounded her fists against his shoulders. He sat up, giving her enough room to reach the heavy candle stick on her bed table. No sooner did she have the weighty silver object in her hand, but he started to choke her, she dug her nails into his face with all her might. Gasping for air, Chloe brought the candle stick down hard against the back of his head with a sickening thud, but this time, she didn't stop. She hit him over and over until he stopped moving and his death-grip on her throat released. He collapsed on top of her.  
  
The candle stick, wet and sticky with Bristol's blood, slipped from her fingers to the ground. Chloe wriggled and shoved until she was free of his body. Rolling to the floor where she landed on her knees. She looked up at her bed, at Bristol's lifeless form. Backing away, she felt the breeze against her bare breasts, and though he wasn't able to see her, she clutched at the shredded gown to cover herself. She was soaked from tears, water, sweat and blood. She shivered as she slid her key from the dresser and then used it to open the lock. The door swung open to reveal Janet and the House Keeper, a sweet old woman called May, searching a large key-ring for a key to fit the lock, and looking terrified. Chloe, her legs aching and bruised, stumbled through the door to the wall across from her and slid down it to the floor and began to sob.  
  
~*~  
  
Chloe raised a shaking hand to her throat, the memory of his touch lingering there. She shuddered at the vivid memories and stared at the ever more interesting toes of her boots. Tears flowing freely, but making no sound. She'd told them. Told them what she'd done. Now all she could do was wait for their response to it.  
  
Jack and the others sat quietly for a moment, he wrestled with his own emotions. He wanted to cry for her. He wanted to scream to God that it wasn't right for any girl to be treated like that and demand He make it go away. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never ever let another man touch her. But, more than anything, he wanted to kill William Bristol for destroying her innocence. Jack Kelly didn't do any of these things. Instead, he reached up and swept the veil of curls behind Chloe's ear. He gently lifted her chin, guiding it to turn so he could see her eyes. He smoothed away her tears with his thumbs, then, thinking better of it, he untied the bandana from his neck, spread it open and tucked it into her hand. He gave her a small smile. "Yer safe here." He said into her emerald eyes. "An' don't look so scared, ya didn't do nuttin wrong."  
  
"Jack's right," Race spoke up. "What happened ain't yer fault, kid." He reached out and rested his hand over the sisters' clasped hands. He could see that Hope was hurting too, he wasn't sure what to do bout it though.  
  
"Da Bastid desoived ta have his skull cracked." Spot spoke for the first time in ages, and his words echoed the thoughts of all three boys. He lit up another cigarette. "He desoives ta be dead." Spot clenched his fists, stood and walked to the wall so he could look out into the night.  
  
Racetrack crossed himself, a horrifying realization coming over him. "Um, Chloe." His voice was low. "Bristol, he...uhh." He swallowed hard, wanting to know, but not wanting to ask the question they all had on their minds. "Is he dead?"  
  
"Shuddap Race!" Cayleigh scrunched up her nose. "Chloe, didny kill nobody!" She turned to look at Chloe, hoping for confirmation of some sort. "Did ya Chloe." She stated. When Chloe dropped her head again, Cayleigh continued, "did you?"  
  
Chloe had been concerned with the same question. She shook her head. "Ah dinny ken." She shrugged. "Ah didnae stop ta check his pulse...Ah just wanted oot of there."  
  
"He ain't dead." Jack said softly. "If he was dead, somebody dat powah-ful, it woulda been all ovah da papes by now." He motioned for Spot to share his cigarette with him. He'd nearly quit since the fight with the Delancey boys had taken a tole on his chest. Spot handed him the cigarette. He took a drag and somehow managed to not cough up a lung.  
  
"Jacky-boy's right." Spot crouched down behind the girls. Placing a hand on each girl's shoulder. "Dehr ain't been nuttin in da papes, but I'll get me boids on it. If deh's anythin' to know, dey'll find it."  
  
Before anything else could be said, the sky lit up with a massive lightning show. A second later thunder boomed, and the heavens opened up, dumping cascades of cold rain on the friends.  
  
They gathered up the bedrolls and headed back inside.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
END CHAPTER 12  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
No time for SOs this time. Sorry guys. Thanks to all those that have read and reviewed! I luv you all bunches n bunches! I will catch up on the SOs next time.  
  
~Sagey~ 


	13. Raven

Chapter 13 Raven  
  
"Guv'nah of Kentucky wanted foah murdah!" Jack shouted and waved his last two papes above his head.  
  
Chloe smiled at him and yelled, "Eight killed in oil well explosion!"  
  
Jack sold out and walked across the street to where Chloe stood. "Ya wanna go get some moah aftah ya sell dat one? Oah should we take the extra time an go ta da pahk or sommat?"  
  
They'd sold together each day for the week following the night on the roof. Jack wanted to protect her, true, but he also liked her company. They joked a bit and talked about lots of different things, some as silly as their favorite sweet or color. They hadn't really been too serious or intense since her revelations about her family. Jack just wasn't sure what to say, so they kept to small talk. But it was still enjoyable.  
  
"Do ya mind if we sell while it's good and tak' the time later for play?" She replied in her Scottish lilt, flashing a bright dimpled grin that reached all the way to her emerald eyes.  
  
"Shoah." Jack shrugged and smiled back. "Its still early, a few moah days like dis an we'se gonna have a nice bit of savin's." He knew, from Hope, that Chloe's birthday was in a few days. She'd be sixteen and he was determined to get her something nice, if not expensive, for a gift.  
  
*  
  
Whistles blared behind her, spurring her on. She sprinted down the side street and through a narrow alley. Raven could hear Jack Kelly's deep voice calling out headlines close by. She ran faster, her worn boots clapping against the pavement. Six bulls chased her, the dumb-asses. She hadn't meant to hit the cop in the rear end with her slingshot. Hell, under normal circumstances she couldn't hit the broad side of a building if she were more than five feet away, Spot even teased her about being the worst shot in Brooklyn, so how could she possibly have expected to hit the fat old bull as he bent over to pick up a coin he found in the street? She'd been aiming for the wagon on the other side of him.  
  
Rounding the corner, she saw Kelly and a new kid. They looked bored. She turned her head as the first bull headed down the alleyway and slammed full force into the new kid's side, knocking him sprawling and their hats both tumbled to the ground.  
  
"Woah, Rave, wheah's da fiah!?" Jack cried out as he grabbed her shoulders to keep her from joining the tall newbie on in the dirt.  
  
"Hi Jack!" She panted. "Bye Jack!" She made a move to run again but Jack had hold of her arm. "Jack really lemme go!" He kept hold of her arms. "BULLS!" She yelled when it became evident he wasn't planning to let her go without further explanation. The outburst had it's desired effect and he let go of her arm. She took off again at a dead runm but not before scooping up her hat from the ground.  
  
*  
  
"You awright kid?" Jack reached down and pulled Chloe to her feet then snapped up the tattered cap left behind. He smacked it on his thigh, sending a puff of dust into the air. She brushed the dust off her self and nodded. He handed her the cap. She looked at it oddly. "What is it?" Jack asked.  
  
"Uh, this is no' me hat." She shook her head, a little perturbed.  
  
A second later, the bulls rounded the corner, whistles blaring, heading right for them. Jack grabbed her hand and took off running, pulling her behind him. Chloe's legs were quite long, though not as long as Jack's, so she had to work to keep up with him. She trailed behind him, her legs pumping so hard she was grateful for the lack of skirts to tangle around her legs. Jack darted down a side alley and they pressed up against the wall silently, watching the bulls pass them by.  
  
"What was that!?" Chloe panted, bent over, her hands on her knees, clutching the foreign newsie cap in her hand.  
  
"That," Jack smirked as he caught his breath, "is Raven." He leaned back against the alley wall. "You awright?"  
  
"Aye." She replied, rubbing her side where she'd been hit. Her pocket felt oddly heavy. Her brows knitted together as she slid her hand into her pocket and pulled the bulky object from her pocket. She frowned down and the gold pocket watch. "What in the world?"  
  
Jack shook his head. "Who knows wit her?" He mumbled.  
  
"Uh, Jack...ya might wanna see this." Chloe held out the watch by its broken chain.  
  
Jack turned his hand palm up and Chloe placed it into his hand, letting the chain pool down into his hand. He studied the watch closely. "She's somethin else."  
  
"Is she a newsie?" Chloe arched a dark brow in question. She didn't remember meeting her at the LH when introductions were made.  
  
"Yeah, but she's from Brooklyn. This must be why Rave was runnin' from da bulls." He explained as he turned the watch over. "Nice woik." He mused at the expensive craftsmanship on the item. "She'll be wantin' ta reclaim dis."  
  
Chloe looked from it to the dark cap she clutched. "Good, I'll be wantin' ta claim back me 'at." She raised the cap to show Jack. "'ow do we get it back to 'er?"  
  
"We gotta go ta Brooklyn." He shrugged as if it were the only obvious choice.  
  
A sing-songy whistle came from above them. "No ya don't" The small Italian girl with dark auburn hair smiled down at them from the rooftop.  
  
Jack chuckled. "Ya know Rave, you're gonna get yerself killed one of dese days."  
  
Raven smirked.  
  
"May I 'ave me hat back, please?" Chloe squinted up at her, the early afternoon sun glaring off a window and blinding her a bit.  
  
"Shoah kid!" Raven shimmied down the drainpipe and dropped to her feet just a few feet from Chloe.  
  
Chloe offered the hat to her. She was a bit miffed that the smaller girl would drop stolen property into her pocket.  
  
Raven switched hats with her then spat in her hand and held it out to her.  
  
Chloe hesitated a moment, then spat in her own hand and accepted the shake.  
  
"Good choice." Raven smirked. "I like this one Jack."  
  
"You would." He grinned in response. "Dis is Scrappah."  
  
The smaller girls face twitched. She raised a brow and her lip curled up into a look of sheer disapproval. "Dat is an ugly goils name."  
  
Chloe's nervous smile faded.  
  
"Don't worry kid, I won't say nuttin." Raven winked. "Uh, da watch Kelly?" She held out her hand.  
  
He placed the watch in her palm.  
  
"T'anks." She tipped her hat. "Well, bettah be gettin back, wouldn't want Conlon ta flip his lid." She rolled her eyes, scurried up the fire escape, and disappeared onto the rooftop.  
  
Sage gaped after her, completely unsure as to what just occured.  
  
"You awright? She slammed inta ya pretty hard." He brushed some dust from her shoulder. His touch lingered just a beat too long.  
  
Chloe gulped and nodded. "Aye."  
  
Jack dropped his hand.  
  
"She doesnae like me name." Chloe frowned.  
  
"Apparently not."  
  
"Do I need a different one?"  
  
Jack shrugged. "Scrappah is kinda guyish..."  
  
"But that's kinda the point, is it no?" She looked up at him.  
  
"Yer right...so keep it." Jack looked into her eyes. "But uh...if ya was ta change it...I'd call ya Sage."  
  
"Sage?" She cocked her dark brow. "Why sage?"  
  
"Cuz dat's da collah of yer eyes." His brown eyes twinkled from the smile that curved his lips.  
  
"You...you noticed the colour of me eyes?" Her cheeks flushed and she was sure he could hear her heart pounding it was so loud.  
  
"Yeah." He nodded, blushed slightly and hurriedly looked away."  
  
"Uh...Jack?" She blushed fiercely and ground her booted toe into the dirt floor. "What should I go by then?"  
  
Jack considered this for a moment. "Scrappah to da guys, I guess. Foah now...but when it's just us I'll call ya Sage." He smirked. "If dat's awright?"  
  
Sage smiled back. "Aye, that's fine."  
  
"Right then, Sage," he helped her tuck her hair back under the cap. "Let's go get some moah papes befoah dey's all gone."  
  
**  
  
end chapter 13  
  
**  
  
SOs  
  
Ok, not long ones this time cos I just want to get this story going again. Sorry guys  
  
Raven - I would be soooo stuck on this without your help. Thanks man you are a star! 143  
  
Rye - I need my kilted muse back! *sobs* I miss you!  
  
Stretch  
  
Ershey  
  
Hope  
  
Sparks Runaway  
  
Tree  
  
BoogityWhup14  
  
Gamester Cladsl  
  
Moon  
  
Zippy 


	14. Secrets

A/N: yes, I changed this chap. Actually I took off the next scene and put it in it's own chapter. It deserved it. I hope you like!

Chloe climbed to the roof of the LH, rather than finding it empty as usual, she was a little shocked to see Stretch already there and pacing the length of the building. Her long blonde ponytail flipped in the air, pale red streaks showing in the sun as she turned to pace back to the other side of the roof.

Chloe cleared her throat and took a step forward.

Stretch whipped around to look at her. She clutched a letter in her hand, tapping the envelope nervously into her palm. Her bottom lip was red and raw from chewing on it.

"What's wrong Stretch? Is it Specs?" Chloe worried out loud about the young man. "He was fine when I checked him last night." Her accent thickened as her worry intensified.

Stretch saw her concern and shook her head. "No," she swallowed hard and lifted the letter. Distress plain in her blue-green eyes.

"Bad news?" Chloe asked with a concerned frown, quickly closing the distance between them.

"I...I don't know." Stretch bit her lip and it was her turn to pale. "I can't read it." It was something she didn't want to admit. Something, till now, only Specs knew about her. She couldn't read. Stretch would always listen to the other newsies to hear what they said as they read their papes each morning at the distribution office, and she pretended to read hers. She knew she wasn't the only newsie that couldn't read, but her pride stood in the way of making this admission unless she felt she had no choice. Specs usually read things to her if needed, but since his injuries, not to mention his glasses being rendered useless by Oscar, he'd been unable to read anything.

Chloe cocked a ruddy brow looking at the girl before her. They were nearly the same height, but Stretch was a bit thinner. "Would ye like some help, Stretch?"

Stretch hesitated for just a moment before nodding and handing the letter to Chloe. Their eyes locked for a moment and Chloe nodded. "Ah'll no' say a word. Dinny fash yersel' lass." Chloe smiled, unfolded the parchment and cleared her throat as she sat down against the brick wall of the chimney.

"My darilin' girl," she started. "It seems ages since Ah've laid me weary eyes on me bonny lass. Ah jist want ye to know Ah think of ye often an' no' a day goes by tha' I don't wish fer a visit or some word tha' yer well." She smiled up at Stretch, at least it wasn't bad news. "Ah know yer work is hard and leaves ye little time, but yer always welcome here, even for a short visit. My lungs have cleared now and the warm air is doin' these old bones some good. Ah miss ya more than you'll ever know. Yer in me prayers an' me heart till the end of me days. All me love..." Chloe looked up at Stretch as she choked out the last word. "Da." She folded the letter back up, careful to not crinkle the page.

Tears stung Chloe's eyes but she bit them back. She'd always been "daddy's girl" and the letter brought to the surface how much she missed her father.

"Yer close ta him?" Chloe asked softly as she saw the tears welling up in Stretch's eyes as well. She reached out and placed her hand on Stretch's shoulder.

"Yeah." Stretch replied just above a whisper.

"Ah was close with my Da too." Chloe gave a sad smile. "Uh, Stretch?"

"Yeah?"

"Ah'm no school teacher... but, Ah'd be glad ta help ya learn if ya like?"

"Really?" Her eyes lit up.

Chloe nodded.

"Thanks. I'd like dat." A smile crept to the other girls lips. "Uh..since ya know me secret... I think ya should know... I know yours."

Chloe choked. "What?"

"I knows yer a goil."

Chloe blinked at her.

"Don't worry, I won't tell." Stretch nudged her playfully in the side. "No boy's got lashes like you'se got. 'Sides, I seen how Jack looks at ya."

Chloe blushed. "Uh...Right, so." She cleared her throat self-consciously and opened the letter back up. They huddled together over the letter and read it over slowly. Chloe pointed to the words as she read it out loud.

After the second time reading through the letter Chloe paused, "D'ya think I be needin a different name, Stretch?"

Stretch pulled back from their huddle and looked her over. "Scrappah is kinda rough. Why? You got anuddah one in mind?"

"Perhaps," she smiled a bit shyly. "Jack called me Sage today...said he's gonna call me that when the fellas aren't around."

A smile spread across Stretch's face and she nodded in agreement. "Much bettah dan Scrappah. I'se gonna call youse Sage too...if dat's awright?"

Sage nodded and smiled.

"See? I told ya so," Stretch nudged the girl playfully with her elbow.

Shout outs!

Thanks for reviews ladies! I luffle you loads and loads.

Zippykins, Celtic, Ershey, Hope, Eire, Newsiekane, Runaway, and Sparks

Those are the ones on FFNET that reviewed. I think I'm missing someone. But don't have anyone else listed on there. But thanks to anyone I missed too!

It's the reviews that keep me wanting to write and post.

Luffles and CCNs,

Sagey


	15. Jack kisses a BOY!

_**A/N: I forgot about another version of this that I did with the help of Sparks Donnen. I think it's much better than the one I posted in chap 14. I hope you agree and enjoy. Thanks to both Sparks and Raven cos I couldn't have done this part of the story without you guys. And to Evey for always being willing to read or listen to my stories.**_

**_I'm holding off on SOs till I have a chance to see what happens with the changes. But thank you to those that did review, I love you!_**

**_Please read and review!_**

**_Sagey_**

* * *

Unsuccessful in her quest to locate a decent, fairly easy to read book for Stretch, Sage decided to pull some pages from her diary for Stretch to practice with. Her penmanship was impeccable so she knew it wouldn't be any more difficult to read than a published book. She sat on one of the old sofas in the LH lobby, with the leather bound notebook laying open in her lap, pouring over the old entries and dog earing the ones that weren't too personal to share. Though she'd grown to like Stretch, and was relieved to be able to let her guard down a bit with her without fear of her secret coming to light, her diary did hold a few private thoughts about her hopes, dreams and fears, some she wasn't comfortable sharing with her new friend. But after spending the afternoon of reading and re-reading the same letter she was quite sure she could recite the entire thing, word for word. It was time for something new.

The warmth of the spring night had called to most of the newsies, beckoning them to "come out and play" in the dusky light of early evening. Most of the boys were out messing about with the other guys or spending time with the girls they fancied. Some decided to take advantage of the busy streets and decided to take time to try their hand at hawking more papes than their usual daily bundle. Stretch and Mayo were upstairs with Specs and Crutchy.

Sage, thoroughly engrossed in the quest to find something at least slightly interesting for Stretch to read, did not hear the door open and close behind her. Nor did she hear the footsteps approach and stop just inches from her.

"Hey, what's dis?" With a grin he snatched the book from her hands.

"Nothing, Jack," she held out her hand for him to give it back.

Jack looked at the cover of the book, taking a few steps back, his grin widening. "No title, hmm," he glanced back at Sage,"C'mon what is it?"

Sage blushed and sighed. "Me journal. Now give it back."

Jack paused, seeing the blush hit her cheeks. "Journal? Ya keep a diary?"

"Uh-uh, no way!" Jack grinned wickedly and turned a few pages in clumps. "Oh, wow...dis is juicy!" His finger ran down the page pretending to read the entry.

Sage wanted to die. Right there. "Jack, please." She stood up and went to him reaching for the book.

Jack held her off easily as he shoved his arm up above his head and still turned pages. "What's dis 'bout Skitts?" He laughed heartily at her distress. He turned toward her so they were chest to chest, well, nearly; he was a good four inches taller than she. Her arms reached and flailed, not about to give up on reclaiming her precious book.

"There's no a thing about Skittery in there!" Her squeaky protest made him laugh all the harder.

"Oh yeah?" his brow shot up and he dropped the book on one of the sofas, his hands moving to her unguarded waist and began tickling her. "You're protestin' an awful lot for someone dat ain't got nuttin written in deh about him..." He continued his relentless assault and delighted in her very definitely feminine giggles.

Jack stepped back again, glancing up earnestly at her, "why're ya so int'rested in Skitts?"

Her eyes widened. "I'm not." she protested and stepped forward still reaching. "Jack, please. This isnae funny." She knew he was playing with her now, not really reading her personal thoughts, but she was desperate to keep him from reading anything she'd written about HIM.

Jack smiled and flipped back a few pages. "Hmm ... really?" He kept just out of her reach, fighting back the smile now teasing his lips, and kept his eyes down so she wouldn't know he was joking. "Ya got some strange secrets."

Sage lost her smile, her eyes beginning to betray her panic.

"Jack..." She nearly lunged this time but once again he snatched it just out of her reach.

Jack glanced up quickly, then dropped his eyes back to the blank page before him. "C'mon, I'm yoah leadah. Shouldn' I know what yoah hidin'?"

"Ya ken weel enough whot me secret is, Jack Kelly," her accent thickened with each encounter.

Jack's grin became absolutely impossible to mask, so he pretended that it was from something he was reading, a gleeful sounding chuckle answering her.

"Dat's no fun."

"Fun or no', I'd like me journal back, now," she stepped forward again, more quickly and this time grabbed for his wrist rather than the book. She watched his face till his eyes met hers. "Please."

Jack smirked jerking his arm back and over his shoulder, pulling her up against him. "Why?"

Sage's mouth went suddenly dry and her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. "Be-because..." she swallowed hard, "because it's private."

Jack held the book out of her reach still, grinning at her. "Oh?"

"Aye." she raised her other arm to reach over his shoulder.

Jack twisted slightly, keeping the book away from her.

"Don' ya trust me?"

"Aye, but.." he still had her held against him and with her arm over his shoulder and reaching behind his neck they were basically in a hug.

Jack grinned at her, raising one eyebrow in a curious gesture. "But?"

"It's me private thoughts. How would you like it if I read your diary?" She whispered in his ear, her breath warm against his skin.

Jack looked sincerely at her, then grinned again. "I don'have one."

"What must I do to get it back?" She sighed heavily.

Jack laughed softly, shrugging. "Relax?"

Her heels dropped back to the floor and she brought her arm back so her hand rested on his shoulder. She cocked one brow and tilted her head to the side. "Now?"

Jack shook his head, "Ya don' trust me still."

"Och, Aye. Ah trust ya Jack...just...Ah'd really like it back."

Jack dropped his arm easily behind her back, sticking the book at the small of her back and holding it there. "Okay."

"Aye? You'll return it now?" Her eyes just wouldn't move from his. They were locked in place.

Jack nodded, still holding the book to her back. "Shuah, why not?"

She smiled and moved one hand behind her back, the other

still resting on his shoulder.

Jack kept the book still, "Ya know ya can trust me, right?"

"Aye, Ah'd no' 'ave told ya what Ah did if Ah didnae trust ye, Jack."

"Hmm. I guess dat's fair." He smirked at her. "So, why didn' ya evah tell me 'bout dat birth mark?"

"Birth mark?" Her brow shot up higher. "What in the world are ya on about Jack?"

His grin faltered slightly. "Um..."

"Um? Is that all you've got to say?" She asked teasing him back now.

Jack snorted, "Fine, if ya don' want da book back..." He pulled his arm back around and brought it behind his own back.

"That's no' fair!" She reached behind his back but his arms were too long and kept it out of her reach.

Jack looked smug. "Why not?"

"Ah asked ya nicely. Please Jack. Give it back." She was getting frustrated but was enjoying the warmth of his body.

Jack smirked. "I did, an' ya made fun o' me." He slowly turned away from her, keeping the book out of her reach and opening it again, leafing to a page that had writing on it, careful to let her see what he was doing and pretended to read it, though he was actually looking past it, not really wanting to intrude on her privacy.

"Jack!" She shrieked and lurched her arms around his waist.

Jack turned quickly, putting his back to her and smirking.

"Yeah?"

"Please! Ya said relax and Ah did, but you still didn't return it. Please...let me have it back."

Jack snapped the book shut again, sighing and turned fast, catching Sage's shoulder and pushing her back lightly. "Ya don' gotta panic."

She just looked at him. Her breathing shallow and quick. What was wrong with her?

"No?"

Jack shook his head. "Nope." He held the book up to show it to her. "Ain' like I read anything dat ya'd be upset 'bout me knowing." He improved the truth a bit, having not read it at all, but Sage didn't have to know that.

"May Ah have it back now?"

Jack sighed, "Shuah." He held the book out to her.

She opened her hand and held it steady, waiting.

Jack stepped forward and placed the book against her hand, still holding it firmly.

She closed her hand around the spine of the book. "Thank you."

She managed a slight smile.

Jack nodded, still holding onto the book.

Sage blinked at him. "You can let go now. I've got it."

Jack nodded again, but still held the book. "Why're ya so nervous 'bout it?"

She gulped. Why won't he just give it back?

"Ah'd like to keep me private thoughts private is all."

He shrugged and released the book gently. "Dey's private still."

"Thank you, Jack." She said softly and brought the book up to her chest and clutched it with her other hand as well.

He dropped his hand to his side, nodding. "I didn' read it."

She let out a relived sigh, breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

He grinned slightly. "Ya shuah did panic."

"No...no Ah didn't." She shook her head, holding the book with a deathgrip.

Jack stepped forward, ducking his head to her eye level.

"Sorry."

She nodded. "Dinne fash yersel'."

Jack blinked. "Huh?"

Chloe smiled softly. "Ehmm, it means...dinnae worry bout it."

Jack nodded, straightening up. "Oh ... ya say some strange stuff, kid."

"Sorry, Ah'm still gettin used to how you Yanks talk too, ya ken?"

"Ken?" Jack grinned. "Dat mean 'ya know'?"

She nodded. "Aye." She smiled. He was learning quickly. "If you've questions, ya need only ask me."

He smirked. "So ... what do ya write in dat?" He nodded to the book hugged to her chest.

"Memories, mostly. Of me mum an' da. Me family, Scotland." She shrugged.

He nodded thoughtfully. "So, why'd ya worry 'bout me readin' it, den?"

Her cheeks flushed just a bit. "Ehmm, cos it's still too fresh I guess." It was her turn to improve the truth. There were things in it about him and the other newsies. Mostly descriptions of who they were and what they did...but she'd foolishly written more about him than anyone.

Jack nodded again, letting her blush go ... girls were odd like that, he'd learned. "So, write anything 'bout me?"

"Perhaps I mentioned you...you are our leader after all."

She could feel her cheeks burning but managed a small smile anyway.

Jack grinned. "Mentioned? Dat's it?" He prodded, hoping her blush meant she'd more than mentioned him.

"Mentioned." She smiled and nodded coyly.

Jack stepped forward, "Prove it."

"Sorry?" She stepped back.

Jack matched her retreat. "Whatcha runnin' from?" He smirked at her. "Prove ya mentioned me."

"Ya dinnae trust me?" she stepped back again, clutching the book tightly to her chest.

Jack shook his head. "Ain' 'bout trust."

She stepped back again. "No? Then what is it about?"

Jack grinned. "I'm curious."

"Aye,? Wheel, curiosity killed the cat." She tilted her head to the side just slightly, flirtatiously.

Jack smirked. "I ain' no cat." He stepped closer. "Don' make me go an' soak ya foah it, tell me whatcha said 'bout me."

She took another step back and cleared her throat. "Ah just said how ya found me in the park that day."

He followed her. "An'?"

"And..." she continued her retreat. "How we soaked the Delanceys."

Jack smiled. "An'?" He stepped close.

"And...tha' Ah told ya who Ah am."

She stepped back again, slamming into the low table. Jack felt her lurch and tried to right them but it was too little too late, and they both went down onto the hard wood floor with a THUD.

"OOOF!"

The wind knocked from her lungs, she gasped for air but she was sprawled on her back, pinned beneath him and he was too heavy. Jack, once he was able to regain his own intake of air, pushed himself up, his weight supported with his arms.

"Sorry," he panted as he looked into her deep viridian green eyes, but made no move to get up.

"It's alright," the tip of her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips.

Jack watched her with rapt attention, concern and amusement fighting for dominance. "Ya aright?"

She blinked up at him, nodding and gasping for breath.

Taking a chance, Jack leaned forward so he was almost nose to nose with her and stared at her. "Shuah?"

"Aye."

"Yeah?"

She was still clutching the journal so nothing broke her fall and she'd smacked her head against the hardwood floor. She was a little dizzy but otherwise alright. "Yeah," she repeated back to him.

He leaned down to gently brush his lips to hers. She let out a soft shocked gasp but didn't pull away.

It lasted a mere moment before he lifted his head to look at her. She blinked at him, but took no action to push him away. Jack smiled and brought one hand up to brush a lock of hair from her face and let it tangle gently in her russet curls as he ducked his head down and kissed her again, this time a real kiss, not just a light brush to her lips.

Jack broke the kiss and pulled her to her feet, chewing on the inside of his cheek slightly, smiling hesitantly. "Sorry?"

She blinked at him. "N-no. I was just surprised."

He smiled a little more, leaning close again. "Aright."

He kissed her again, just as softly.

She dropped the journal to the small table. Her lips responded to his, her own fingers slipping up into the dark too-long hair at the nape of his neck. So complete was their distraction, neither teen noticed their growing audience.

Jack smiled and hugged her gently, kissing her again. This was right, he felt it.

She felt completely safe, as she had the night he held her as she told him who she was. She blushed as she broke the kiss long enough to catch her breath then kissed him once more for good measure.

Skittery stood in the doorway, horror etched on his face, unable to speak for a long moment, finally he managed a weak cough, trying to find his voice. "Jack?" He rasped out.

Jack jumped and let go of Sage, spinning to face Skittery, and felt his heart stop. "Whoops."

Chloe pulled back from Jack quickly and wrapped her arms around her middle. Pulling back into her shell.

Blink pushed past Skitts into the room. "Whoops?! Yer ...yer kissin Scrappah!"

Jack grimaced, "Uh ... 'bout dat ... uh." He glanced at Sage uncertainly. Did he tell them, or did they just hope that Blink and Skittery could be convinced into not saying anything?

Skittery just stared at Jack in shock. He didn't know if he should laugh or be sick.

"He's doin what?" Mush pushed Skitts to the side to get in the room as well.

Skittery, Snitch, Harley, Race, Blink, Gin Mush and Ershey, had returned to the LH to see if Scrappah and Jack wanted to join them for a game of stickball, and now all stood in the lobby with mixed looks of shock, horror and curiosity on their faces. They'd been standing there gawking for a few long moments when the door swung open.

Jack nearly swore, scratch the _convince them to not talk option_. "Uh ..." He again looked at Sage, "tell 'em?"

"Heya boys," Raven burst into the room. She was one that was determined to always make an entrance and this would certainly be one of her more memorable to date. But they barely muttered in her direction. Everyone in the room was watching something other than her, so she cleared her throat and looked around, "why you'se gawkin at dem foah?"

"Cowboy was kissin' Scrappah," Mush said with more than a little confusion showing through his words and on his face.

Blink turned, "and all he has ta say is'whoops'."

Raven started to laugh. Actually it was more of a cackle.

Jack rolled his eyes and Raven laughed harder.

Blink frowned. "Whatcha laughin foah? Jack just kissed...GAH!" He turned away in disgust.

Race joined in the laughter.

Sage took her hat off and shook her head.

"Uh, Blink? What kinda boy's got hair like dat?" Skittery pointed at the mass of red curls that tumbled down Sage's back.

"Scrappah's a goil." Raven snorted. "What's da big deal?"

"I'm so confused," Mush whimpered as he shoved his hand through his dark curls.

Jack stepped back, his hand finding Sage's. "Thanks Raven, we didn' tell 'em dat yet."

Blink stared. "A goil..."

Raven snickered and lit up a cigarette.

"Ray you can't smoke in heah!" Gin glared at the rebelious newsgirl and pointed to the hand painted sign above the desk that stated the rules of the LH.

Raven rolled her eyes and dabbed the cigarette out on the sole of her boot.

"Thank Gawd!" Skittery sighed dramatically. "I been watchin you two all week an'...well...tell ya da trut' Jack...was stahtin ta wondah if you was turnin funny on us."

The newsies each twitched or moaned at that statement; truth being that most of them had noticed tension between their leader and the new newsie.

"Are ya outta yer mind?" Jack shuddered.

Race, in complete hysterics now, toppled off the side of the sofa and landed on the floor. "Oof!"

"Well, we'se all t'inkin she's a boy, Jack an' then you'se kissin 'er?" Blink was still trying to process the information he'd just witnessed.

"Will ya take a look at her? She's very definitely a goil!" Jack protested. He put his arm around her shoulders protectively. "You awright, Sage?"

Sage nodded dumbly. She was mortified. Her cheeks were burning hot and she wanted to crawl into her bunk and sleep till it all went away.

Raven continued to laugh and after another stern look from Gin decided to go out on the fire escape to smoke.

The hollows of Jack's cheeks burned crimson. And, as distracted as he was, by both the ribbing and the kiss, he still was able to sense that something just wasn't quite right with Raven.

Stretch clomped down the steps then slowed her pace as she saw them.

Skittery just stared at Sage ... a girl.

"Why didn't ya tell us?" Blink asked.

Sage took one step forward. "Ah asked him not to."

Jack sighed, putting a hand on her shoulder and leaning forward to whisper, "Don' say nothin' ya don' wanna. It's okay."

Skittery shook his head, "Why'd ya do dat? We wouldn' care."

Blink frowned. "We aint gonna tell no body."

She shook her head. "Ah'm sorry. Just...I thought it was safer this way."


End file.
